


A New Life

by Alex_42



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Canon Divergence, Character Death, Chris Argent has a big dick, Cockslut Peter Hale, Crying Durring Sex, Danny mahealani has a big dick, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Has a Big Dick, Derek Hale Leaves Beacon Hills, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Eventual Smut, Face-Fucking, Good Alpha Derek Hale, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Knotting, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Rough Sex, Scott is a Good Friend, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski Leaves the Pack, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Hale Pack, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, Void Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 59,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_42/pseuds/Alex_42
Summary: Derek and Cora have been living safely since leaving Beacon Hills, but when Derek receives news that his mate is in trouble, he and his sister pack up and make their way back to Beacon Hills to rescue a member of their pack that they left behind.There will be feelings. There will be violence. There will be smut.But will there be a happy ending???
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Danny Mahealani/Jackson Whittemore, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 528
Kudos: 839
Collections: Rainy Day Reads





	1. It’s Your Mate, Derek; He’s In Danger

**Author's Note:**

> *I do not own any characters, concepts, or ideas from Teen Wolf (TV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter is mostly from Derek’s perspective. The next chapter will be mostly from Stiles’ perspective. Don’t hold faith to the solid plot from the TV show; this isn’t that.

Derek enters the front door to the large cabin he has come to call home. When he left Beacon Hills with Cora all those months ago, the two had sought refuge with one of the packs Talia had an alliance with in Colorado.

They were known as the Flores Pack: a pack that was Native American in lineage but has lost much of its power and influence over the years due to many of the supernatural Natives running, hiding, and changing their last names to avoid being tracked and hunted. The pack’s original “bloodline” had been reduced to one single member, not even a werewolf at that, but rather a quite renown emissary. His name is Alex, son of the late Henry Flores, a Native American shaman, and Candida Flores, a powerful Mexican bruja. Alex, being mostly psychic, with a dash of witch’s blood within, is the one who asked to speak to Derek at the cabin.

As Derek makes his way towards the study, a sudden feeling of dread washes over him. Alex has always been incredibly proficient at keeping his heart rate and aroma calm and collected, but Derek can smell the slight edge of bitter citrus and burnt chamomile as soon as he opens the front door. A smell he has come to associate with Alex’s divination rituals.

As he enters the study, his suspicions are confirmed; Alex sits alone with a sorrowful look on his face.

There is a beat of silence for just a moment.

“It’s your mate, Derek; he’s in danger.” Alex speaks softly. “I know you may not want to hear this, but if you don’t go to him, I don’t know if he’ll survive.”

Derek doesn’t speak; he doesn’t know what to say. Worry for his mate washes over him in waves.

“I understand that when you left Beacon Hills you trusted the true alpha to keep him safe, but there are malicious energies at work. The true alpha has lost his trust in your mate. He is not safe in Beacon Hills anymore.” Alex speaks in a calm but firm manner; and what’s worse, is that he doesn’t lie. Not once. Derek knows better than to doubt Alex. Alex and his mate, the current Alpha of the Flores Pack, have kept Derek and Cora safe all this time. Even though Derek is an Alpha himself.

“I cannot leave the territory while Christiano is away or I would go with you. I am sorry for the sudden news, but it wasn’t until last night that the knowledge came to me.” Alex stares out the glass covered wall looking over a small lakeside, seemingly deep in thought.

“I don’t know if I can protect him.” Derek admits weakly. “When we're together, somebody always gets hurt. That’s how it’s always been. We take turns risking our lives, and hope that we’ll survive.”

“Bring him here. I have already called Christiano and he agreed to let him stay here as well. Your mother is the reason that the Flores Pack is even still alive at all. Even though we may not be as strong as we once were, we owe the Hale Pack our lives.” Alex comes up to Derek and rests his hand on his shoulder, unafraid of scenting another alpha if it means providing the comfort Derek so desperately needs. “Go to him Derek. You need each other.”

Derek looks into Alex’s eyes and sees determination, honesty, and hope. Unable to speak much, Derek gathers his resolve and nods firmly. “Thank you” is all he says before heading outside to send a quick text.

Derek: _Pack a bag and meet me at the cabin. We’re taking a quick trip to Beacon Hills._

Cora: _I’ve had a bag packed for weeks. I wondered how long it would take you to get your head out of your ass and go get your man._

Derek chuckles at Cora’s honesty. It seems as though everybody already knew where Derek’s head has been all this time. He quickly scrolls through his contacts until he finds the number he’s looking for.

Peter answers after the first ring. “Alpha o’ mine! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

With determination and drive in his voice, Derek speaks with a spirit he forgot he ever had. “Stiles is in danger. How quickly can you meet me and Cora in Beacon Hills?”

——

When the Camaro makes its way past the “Welcome to Beacon Hills” sign, it is dark out, and raining. Derek had planned to head to the loft first, but that quickly changes when Cora receives a call from Peter. “Derek, I know you can hear me, so I’ll make this quick. I think Stiles killed somebody in self-defense. He met up with Scott and his father afterwards but there was an argument. Derek, I was across the street and a floor above when Stiles’ scent hit me. It was intoxicating. The hurt and betrayal reminded me of things I don’t like to discuss.”

“You could smell his change in scent from across the street?” Cora quickly asks.

“While we were both in separate buildings, while it was raining, yes.” The annoyed tone in Peter’s voice makes Derek clench at the steering wheel. “It’s terrible, but that’s beside the point; Stiles ran. After he argued with Scott and the sheriff, he ran from them and headed straight for the preserve. I’m following him on foot now. He’s headed for the old house, but he’s in danger still. Whoever was trying to kill him isn’t working alone.”

Derek’s breath catches. “Protect him until we get there. Do not be seen. We will meet you in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes alpha.” It’s uncharacteristic of Peter to be so compliant, but Peter has lost a mate before. He also knew how ashamed and embarrassed Derek was to keep the truth from Stiles when he left him, so it seems as though Peter has chosen now to redeem some of his humanity.

Cora ends the call and places her hand on her Alpha’s shoulder for support. “We’re almost there Derek. He’ll be okay.”

Derek quickly turns the car to an off road leading to the old Hale house. He’s determined to find his mate after all this time.

——

When the Camaro arrives at the old Hale house, Derek’s first reaction is relief at seeing his mate sitting on the stairs of the porch, but that is quickly overpowered by the scent. Just as Peter had said, it’s intoxicating. Derek whines from deep within. Stiles has yet to notice the Camaro not but 30 feet away from him. It’s unlike Stiles to be so oblivious of his surroundings, especially while in danger.

“Peter and I will check the perimeter.” Cora announces while giving Derek a sympathetic look. Derek simply nods his head and opens the car door.

This seems to awaken Stiles from whatever trance he had been in. He stares at Derek for a moment. Much to Derek’s dismay, the scent does not change. “You’re not real.” Stiles simply states. “It’s just another hallucination. One that I can’t handle right now.” Stiles studies his hands for a moment. Derek watches silently as Stiles counts his fingers, and then recounts... and then recounts. “Ten...” Stiles whispers into the rain about ten minutes later. Suddenly, Derek can pick up a hint of new emotions in the scent: hope, shame, relief, and doubt.

“It’s me Stiles. I’m here.” ‘I’m not going to let anybody hurt you,’ Derek wants to add, but he doesn’t want to push his luck. Stiles is unstable.

“I don’t believe you!” Stiles shouts! He stands quickly, grabbing his baseball bat from beside him.

‘Where the hell did that thing come from,’ Derek thinks to himself. And just like that, Stiles is at the ready, crouched for battle.

“He’s telling the truth Stiles.” Peter steps out from the side of the house, followed by Cora. “We all just arrived in town. I got here a few hours ago and picked up your trail. I could tell something was wrong.” Cora gives a quick nod to her alpha, assuring him the perimeter is clear.

Stiles turns back to Derek, wavering in his resolve for a moment. “Derek...” and although it’s raining, Derek can see the tears falling from his mate’s face, and in an instant, Stiles drops the bat and is suddenly embracing Derek in one of those hugs that is reserved for wives when their husbands return from war.

Derek, for all he’s worth, lets go of the breath he was holding and holds his mate tightly instead. “Let’s get you to the loft before you get a cold.”

——

Cora opens the door to the loft with Derek following behind. Stiles had quickly fallen asleep on the ride to the loft due to exhaustion and Derek had carried him up the stairs. Peter had insisted on following behind on foot. He had chosen to take his time on the way to assure that Stiles is not being followed. Derek is grateful.

Derek lays Stiles on his old bed and takes a moment to admire Stiles’ sleeping form. It’s peaceful yet wary. Stiles is still wet from the rain, so Derek reluctantly helps him out of his shirt and pants, deciding to leave his boxer briefs.

The sight is bittersweet. Stiles’ body is covered in fresh bruises and old scars, yet somehow, Derek can’t help but admire the beautiful man in front of him. His hair has grown out slightly and his face has chiseled with mature bone structure. His torso has slimmed slightly but is more defined than Derek had ever noticed. His ass is plump and his bulge is— before Derek’s thoughts can wonder into dangerous territory, he leaves to get a towel, a pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt for Stiles. Derek makes quick work of cleaning and dressing Stiles. He covers him in a few blankets and leaves him to rest.

He finds Cora in the kitchen on her phone, assumingly texting Peter. “Peter said he isn’t being followed, but he has a few suspicions he’d like to confirm before coming to the loft.”

“That’s fine.” Derek mutters out. “He’s in so much pain Cora. I siphoned what I could, but it’s more than just cuts and bruises. When Alex said that there were malicious energies working against him, I didn’t think it would look like this. I didn’t think he would be so lost or alone.”

“We need to get him back to the cabin. Alex will know what to do, and I know you can keep him safe.” Cora assures him.

“What if he doesn’t want to leave? How am I supposed to just take him with us?” Derek has his head in his hands. Worrying about his mate’s safety was something he had grown used to but seeing Stiles in such a state has Derek’s wolf in a frenzy, restless. Cora and Peter must know this. It’s the only explanation as to why they are being so supportive and compliant.

“That’s what Peter is looking into. He thinks that because Stiles is 18 now, he can leave on his own without repercussions. He’s looking at his school records as we speak.” Cora had wanted Peter to lay low, but she understands that he knows his way around town. “It would be wise for the two of us to stay here. You don’t _have_ to announce your presence to the McCall alpha, since you own land in the territory already, but it isn’t very kind to swoop in and steal a member of his pack. Peter on the other hand, has been in and out of town lately to speak with Malia. His presence won’t be seen as any more of a threat than it already is. He can gather Stiles’ belongings and meet back here before we leave, and nobody will suspect a thing.”

“What if he doesn’t want to leave Cora?” Derek questions again.

“Did you not see the way he fucking held you Derek? You may not believe it but he will follow you anywhere. Something bad is going on here. Now may be the _perfect_ time for him to get out.” Cora’s tone is aggressive yet sympathetic. “Talk to him Derek.”

Although he knows she’s right, the guilt of leaving in the first-place weighs heavy on his mind.

——

When Stiles awakens, Peter had just returned in a rental car with take out. Derek hears the sudden increase of heart rate and rushes to his old bedroom. Sitting up at the edge of the bed, is Stiles, amber eyes seeking hazel ones in the eerily peaceful room.

Derek doesn’t know how to start, so he let his protective instincts and the need to provide for his mate take over, “are you hungry?”

Stiles chuckles, “yeah... yeah I’m starving.” Stiles hesitantly makes his way to the bar at the kitchen while Derek prepares him a plate. As Derek presents Stiles with the food, he can see a single tear roll from the young man’s eyes. “You’re really here. It’s not just a dream is it?”

“It’s not a dream. It’s us. We’re here.” Derek can’t help but feel prideful as Stiles’ scent perks up in happiness.

“Why?” Stiles asks. Derek is taken aback by the simplicity, and doubt, that is now the man in front of him. No excess energy, no word vomit, no flailing limbs. It’s as if Stiles has lost part of his spirit. It makes Derek’s wolf uneasy.

Turning to Cora and Peter, both betas give a curt nod of agreement. Derek may be the Alpha, but he knows Cora and Peter deserve a say in what is coming next. “Since we left, we’ve been staying with an allied pack from my mother’s Era. They’ve protected us since then. Their alpha is worthy, and he’s allowed us to stay in the territory for as long as we need. Their emissary is how we’ve kept at wits’ end. His name is Alex; his dad was a shaman and his mom was a witch. You’ll have to ask him to explain what he is exactly; but more or less, he acts like some sort of oracle or seer. He told me that you were in trouble and needed help, so, here we are.”

Stiles’ blank face slowly grows into excitement and confusion both. Derek thankfully, can hear a little bit of life when he speaks next. “That raises so many questions.” All three wolfs nod expectantly. “First, when you left, I assumed you would head to South America to reunite with Cora’s new pack.”

“We did, but my previous alpha was uncomfortable allowing another alpha to stay in the territory. So, Peter reached out to the Flores Pack in Colorado.” Cora states calmly. In fact, Derek is surprised by Cora’s calm approach. He’ll have to thank her later.

“But the Flores Alpha was okay with Derek being around?” Stiles questions.

Peter is the next to answer, “The Flores pack is part of a five-pack alliance that protects the mountain ranges of Colorado. The two largest packs are based out of Denver and Colorado Springs, they cover the northeastern and southeastern sections of the territory, respectively. The other three packs are smaller in size, but cover the northwestern, western, and southwestern sections of the territory. If you were to map out the territory and sections, it would look like a two-year-old tried to draw a pentagram with the head of the star pointing directly to the west.”

“Many years ago, the Flores Pack lost more than half of their numbers by hunter ambush. The pack did survive, but their alpha and emissary at the time did not.” Peter tries to explain as easily as possible. “The hierarchy of the pack was based on bloodline. The only remaining blood relative was the son of the emissary, who had been trained to become the next emissary. By traditional accordance, his mate ended up as the alpha instead. The two were capable on their own, but unfortunately, they no longer had a seasoned pack to safely protect their section of the territory. Talia was the one who inevitably answered the young couple’s call for help. Laura maintained Beacon Hills while she and I took two other Hale wolfs to train, rebuild, and stabilize the Flores Pack. The trip lasted about six months and by the end of it, the new Flores Pack were able to manage on their own.”

“I’m assuming that means the Alpha and Emissary couple who have housed the three of you all this time are the same couple who Talia trained.” Stiles asks quickly.

“Correct, Christiano and Alex Flores,” Peter replies. “Thank you for paying attention; there will be a pop quiz.”

Derek knows Peter is testing the waters on Stiles social stability and willingness to speak up; he shouldn’t be surprised as Stiles rolls his eyes fondly and his body starts to relax a bit. “Okay, that explains that, now secondly, what do you mean this Alex emissary is some sort of ‘oracle or seer,’ is he supernatural but still human like Lydia? Does he get visions of the future like Lydia gets visions of people dying? Or is he like Deaton, and does rituals and shit like a Druid?”

Peter and Cora both look to Derek this time, “umm, both, I think.” Derek says while furrowing his brow. “I don’t think he actually gets ‘visions’ like Lydia, but he does know the future sometimes, and the past sometimes too without being told. And sometimes he knows what’s happening in the immediate present at some random location super far away... He does rituals and stuff too; he says when new information comes in, the rituals help to clarify a lot of the complicated details. You’ll have to ask him to explain further.”

“Hmm,” Stiles expresses while deep in thought. “Okay, last question... how did he know that I, specifically, needed help?”

This time, Peter and Cora look at Derek with a ‘well are you going to tell him or not’ look on their faces. Derek can feel the slight blush creeping its way towards his face. “Oh, umm... I was kind of worried about you guys after I left. Apparently, Alex’s powers can kind of tune-in to what’s important to people. He doesn’t like to invade people’s privacy though, so he doesn’t bring it up unless somebody’s life is in danger.”

At this point, Stiles' demeanor and scent is an equally muddy cloud of many emotions, so it’s difficult to interpret. Peter and Cora’s stance however has changed to a ‘well, I guess that isn’t a lie.’ “Alex was hoping that we would make it to you before something terrible happened, but I guess we were too late for that and I’m sorry.”

At this, Stiles goes back to complete and utter grief. Derek can’t help the nearly silent whine that escapes. “It’s not your fault that I’m a murderer.” And just as quick, all the wolves stiffen with sympathy. “I killed Donovan. Just like I killed Allison.” And at THIS, Derek can feel the guilt hit his senses like a freight train. “Scott didn’t believe me when I told him Donovan was trying to kill me, and dad was so disappointed... he started interrogating me right then and there, like I was just another serial killer.” Stiles tries to hold back the tears, he really does; and although his face is frozen still, the water starts streaming like a fountain. “So, I ran. As far and as fast as I could, until found myself at the Hale house. I don’t know why, but it was the only place that felt safe. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. I can’t go back Derek.”

Peter sends Derek a supportive glance that says, ‘it’s time Derek.’ So Derek forces his wolf to relax and decides to speak. “Come with us.”

Stiles whips his gaze to Derek in an instant, his tears stop flowing and his scent goes blank. “What?”

“Come with us,” okay Derek, good job, wow... articulate. *cough*cough* Derek stills himself and gathers what little resolve he has left. “Come with us to Colorado. We can protect you, and Alex can help.”

The room is silent for a moment. Nobody moves. Everybody is allowing Stiles to consider. “You would love the Mountains. And the forests are more alive than the preserve here.” Cora chimes in.

“Also, as I’m sure you’re acutely interested in, the Flores Pack has a rather extensive library that makes even me jealous: bestiaries, lore books, and encyclopedias galore.” Peter adds.

Another beat of silence happens before Stiles speaks. “I can’t just leave in the middle of my final school year.”

“Actually,” Peter interjects, “I took a look at your transcripts while you’ve been asleep. You already meet the requirements to receive your high school diploma in the state of California; and since you’re 18 years old, you can hire a personal lawyer, such as myself, without a parent or guardian’s involvement. It wouldn’t take but a few forms and signatures sent to the school board to have your diploma mailed to a P.O. Box under my name. Furthermore, if you wanted to extend your ‘under the radar’ visit to Colorado for any amount of time, I could easily acquire a computer equipped with an IP address blocker that would allow you to start college online without being located by anybody. Granted, however, you’d be using up at least three decades worth of favors from crazy uncle Peter.”

‘So that’s what Peter’s been doing for the last several hours.’ Derek thinks to himself. Cora on the other hand, is sporting a shit-eating grin at the announcement of this information.

Yet another beat of silence... Derek’s wolf is currently gnawing with anticipation. Stiles’ body language and scent proceed as a roller-coaster of thoughts and emotions...

“Deal.” Stiles finally says, body and aroma resting on relief.

“What?” Derek asks VERY maturely.

“A new life, in exchange for my forfeit of three decades worth of favors from crazy uncle Peter.” Stiles says simply, as if he hasn’t just tilted Derek’s entire world on its axis by referring to Peter as his uncle, intentionally or not. “But I’ll need to pick up some things from the house before we leave. When is that by the way; can I say goodbye to my mom before we head out?”

“Of course,” Derek comments while turning towards Peter to hide the full-on blush that is making its way forward. “Peter, as a favor to ME, could you take Stiles to gather his belongings and say goodbye to his mother while Cora and I get ready for the trip back?”

“You sly fucker... I’m cutting your quota of favors in half...” Peter bites out while grabbing his keys from the counter.

Cora and Stiles burst into laughter simultaneously, and Derek cant help but preen at the attention when he sees his mate smile for the first time since being back in Beacon Hills.

“Come on zombiewolf, let’s go! We can talk about the totally awesome gaming PC you’re going to buy me on the way to get my shit!” Stiles blurts out while practically running for the loft door.

“Fuck...” Peter mumbles while begrudgingly following Stiles out of the loft and closing the door.

Cora rests her hand on Derek’s shoulder and squeezes firmly. “I told you he would come.”

“Thank you, Cora.” And for all it’s worth, Derek is genuinely appreciative. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Like I said, you are exactly what he needs right now.” Cora assures even though Derek is struggling to believe. “Okay, that’s enough sentimental bonding and serious bullshit. Mission accomplished. Let’s get the fuck out of this hellhole.”

Derek can’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve made it this far, THANK YOU FOR READING! This is my first published fic ever and comments are more than welcome! I’m going to try to publish each chapter as soon as it’s written. It took me a week to write this one but I’m not making any promises...


	2. What Is He Looking For?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

Stiles stares out of the passenger side window of the Camaro and can’t help but admire the beauty that is the Colorado countryside. Peter and Cora had decided to follow behind in the rental. Cora has been noting the landmarks each time the group had stopped for gas or to rest for a night. She was right it seems, the forests are lively and the sight of the mountain ranges are to die for.

Derek is driving the Camaro towards the southwestern side of the state map and Stiles assumes that this point of the ‘pentagram’ must be where the Flores Pack reside. They pass though a few small towns and Stiles receives the sudden thought that his mother would have loved it here; the numerous lakes and rivers calmly accent the landscape with a subtle vibrancy that settles a part of Stiles’ soul.

Derek and Stiles have silently agreed not to discuss the events leading up to the last few days which makes Stiles more than grateful for the road trip. It also helps that he is alone with HOTTER-THAN-A-WITCH’S-LEFT-FUCKING-TIT (*holds*up*a*finger* The right tit is cold) DEREK HALE! ‘Seriously though, what’s in the water here!? Did Derek get hotter or has he always looked like this!?’

Although their time together had been mostly a nervous silence at the start, Stiles gradually began to make small talk and ask Derek questions about the Flores pack and the territory. (Mostly because Peter has forced Stiles to power off his phone and laptop until they could transfer all of the contents to a ‘secure’ device, fuck you Peter.) Derek was able to answer most questions about the land but was fairly vague when speaking about the pack itself, most notably saying that the pack was full of annoyingly calm and patient people, even for him. Stiles is both excited and relieved.

——

Stiles is lost in the scenery and has yet to realize the Camaro is parked in a driveway when Derek turns to inform him they are here. The sight is... well... a sight. One large two story cabin is in front and center, beautiful yet simple. Another two story cabin lays off to the right hand side but it seems smaller and older than the main home. And lastly, a studio sized glass box rests between the two with enough open space for plenty of sunlight to shine through to the various plants and flowers. ‘A greenhouse maybe,’ Stiles thinks to himself.

When Stiles exits the Camaro he notices that Derek has already grabbed both cases of luggage and is heading to the front door when he speaks. “Peter and Cora shouldn’t be too far behind. Alex is waiting for us in the kitchen. I hope you’re hungry because whatever is in the oven smells amazing.”Stiles makes his way up the spacious front porch as Derek lets himself into the cabin.

The first thing Stiles notices when entering is that the inside of the cabin is just as remarkable as the outside. To the right, there is a large, simple yet modern looking living room where the ceiling reaches the roof of the home itself. Farther back on the right hand side is a large room with several wide widows and Stiles can see several shelves of books, bingo, but above the room (library) is the second floor of closed off rooms. To the left, is an open kitchen area with long counter space, bar space, and a wide cooking island; there is a smaller adjoining room that seems to be closed off by nothing but a few off-white drapes that match the paint. Further back on the left is a rather large closed off room. Above the large room is the second floor, again with more closed off rooms. ‘Okay, so, do all traditional werewolf packs have an absurd amount of coin!?’

“Alpha Hale, welcome back! Put that luggage down for a moment please.” Stiles hears suddenly, and just as quickly, Alex appears from behind some counter space in the kitchen with a handful of fresh vegetables. “And you must be Stiles! Greetings of peace and blessings! Cookie, tea perhaps?” Alex questions while pointing a knife to the refreshments on the island.

“You already know if I’m going to take a cookie don’t you?” Stiles blurts out before he can turn on his ‘you’re meeting a legendary emissary Stiles, now behave’ filter.

Derek sighs, and Alex Chuckles a bit. “That isn’t how it works Stiles; this isn’t ‘The Matrix,’ and I’m not the oracle.” In his stationary position cutting vegetables, Alex can be seen fully now. He is shorter than Stiles expected, standing at maybe 5”2’. He is also thinner than expected, but detailed with the muscle definition of a cross country runner or an avid swimmer. His most notable asset seems to be long, straight hair that is French braided around the back and continues to curl over the shoulder, length coming down to his ribs. Now he looks directly at Stiles to speak. “Try one, it’s a family recipe: almond & raisin. They go well with camomile honey tea. Derek, help yourself.” His voice is soft yet vibrant. His face is gentle with high cheek bones. His skin is olive colored and creamy.

Derek proceeds to take a cookie and offers it to Stiles with a subtle smile and a nod. “Holy shit on a stick these are good,” Stiles mutters out between chewing. He finishes off the cookie quickly while Derek hands him a cup of tea. Stiles sighs into the smooth tea that accents the balanced sugar:bitterness ratios of the cookie. He tries to hold back the blush making its way to his face while Derek basks in Stiles’ relaxation.

Stiles can hear a glass door slide open from a distance. “And that will be my mate.” Alex says cheerily while taking the now diced vegetables to the sink for a wash.

A rather tall Spaniard-looking man makes his way out of a hallway beside the library where Stiles assumes the back door is. At the same time, Alex leaves the sink for a moment and steps around the counter to stand beside said man. Alex is using a professional voice and Stiles can tell this must be a formal introduction. “My name is Alex Flores, emissary and alpha-mate of the Flores Pack. It is a pleasure to meet you. This is Christiano Flores, alpha of the Flores Pack and keeper of the Colorado Mountain Territory Section number five, or C.M.T.S.5 for short.”

Christiano, unlike Alex, stands 6”1’ tall at the same relative height as Derek. Broad shoulders hover over a well shaped, lean, muscular frame. Medium length, honey colored, wavy, blond hair bounces slightly over Germanic features and bright blue eyes. “Alpha Flores, Alpha Hale has returned in good health from his trip to Beacon Hills.” Alex clarifies. Christiano and Derek share a quick moment of red eye flashes and a strong hand shake, silently communicating as wolfs do (ugh, ‘alpha males’). “And this is Stiles Stilinski...”

Alex makes a seemingly nonchalant glance at the left side of Stiles’ neck while taking a pause. ‘What is he looking for?’ Stiles thinks to himself. And just then, Derek comes up to stand beside Stiles and places a strong hand on his shoulder. 

This seems to answer whatever question is lying in the air as Alex smiles warmly, “...beta-rank human of the Hale pack.”

‘Ahh,’ Stiles thinks to himself. He should have realized that he most certainly isn’t a member of the McCall pack anymore, but relief quickly washes over him as Derek’s assuring hand rests on his shoulder, as if staking a claim. Before Stiles can make an ass of himself, he fixes his gaze slightly above the couple and tilts his chin up a bit to expose his neck in submission. “Alpha Flores.”

Christiano walks up to Stiles and extends his hand out forwards, “greetings of peace and blessings, beta Stilinski.” Stiles relaxes his head and shakes Christiano’s hand firmly. “As alpha of the Flores Pack, and keeper of C.M.T.S.5, I hereby give you express permission to reside with the remainder of the Hale pack here at the estate.”

“Thank you Alpha Flores, this is a beautiful home and I am grateful for your welcome.” Stiles tries to say as professionally as possible while unconsciously leaning into Derek a bit. At this, everybody’s posture relaxes so Stiles follows suit.

Alex makes his way back to the sink and Christiano takes a seat at the island. “I trust Derek to give you a full tour of the estate, but I’ll summarize. The main cabin holds the master bedroom, library, study and washroom on the first floor; there are four bedrooms on the second floor that belong to our children, they’ll be here soon for dinner; and there is also a lower level that has two guest bedrooms and a lounge area with a small kitchenette attachment. That is where Derek and Cora have been staying. I designed the cabin and Christiano built it by hand about ten years ago when we were expecting our first child.” 

“Outback and to the right is the greenhouse. You’re welcome to it whenever you’d like, just be careful, some of the things we keep can be quite dangerous. The lower level of the greenhouse is the workshop. It’s mostly used by the humans for magical craft and practice.” Alex explains dutifully while beginning to prepare his vegetables for sauté.

“And then of course that leads me to where you and the Hale pack will be staying from now on.” At this, Derek shuffles quizzical looks between the couple. Christiano nods in agreement while Alex continues. “The old Flores cabin is further away than the greenhouse. We renovated it shortly after moving into the main cabin and have been using it as a guesthouse for the allied packs of the territory when they stay for a few days here and there. Christiano and I agree however, that the guesthouse would be better suited for the Hale pack. The allied packs don’t come to the estate but maybe once or twice a month and they only ever come as singles or pairs.”

“The guesthouse holds a master bedroom, study, and washroom on the first floor, two spare bedrooms on the second floor, and one spare bedroom with a lounge area on the lower level. Which is far too much space for one or two people to use occasionally. I will also inform you that the lower levels of all the buildings are connected by underground hallways.” Alex rationalizes and informs. “Now Derek, I’m sure you and your pack must be tired from your trip. Why don’t you all settle into the guesthouse and come back in an hour for dinner. After dinner, we can get all of your things from the lower level moved to the guesthouse; and tomorrow, we can discuss business further.”

Derek stands speechless alongside Stiles. He looks like he wants to speak up but Stiles quickly interjects, “I don’t think it would be a good idea to argue with the power couple Derek.” 

All three others look at Stiles fondly. “Please, Derek, it would be an honor for the Hale Pack to reside with us for the foreseeable future.” Christiano speaks up. “Besides, I think Peter and Cora just pulled in. I haven’t seen Peter in weeks and I’m not sure EXACTLY how much room he requires for his ego but I don’t think sharing a room with anybody would have a positive outcome...” okay, Christiano probably has a point there. “Good, you were supposed to hear that, Peter.” (Okay, werewolf hearing, distance conversations, check.)

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Derek finally agrees. “We’ll head out to the guesthouse and be back for dinner in a bit. Thank you both.”

‘So this must be how respectable packs interact with one another. It’s... nice... comforting even,’ Stiles thinks to himself. ‘Maybe crazy uncle Peter was on to something. Maybe I could stay here for awhile.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, comments are more than welcome and I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> Chapter three will be from Alex’s perspective and open up the spark!Stiles plot of the story.....


	3. I Know You Don’t Believe Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

Alex awakens groggily; he rubs his face into Christiano’s bare chest in an attempt to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

“Buenos días mi cervatillo.” Christiano speaks calmly.

“Morning babe.” Alex mutters out while half of his face is plastered against his mate, eyes still shut.

“¿Cómo has pasado la noche con Stìles en el territorio?” Christiano’s voice is low and sounds like melted butter, it might as well be Alex’s breakfast.

“Waking up with a new person so close to us in the territory is always a little difficult. It’s like when you turn a computer off in order to download and install an update.” Alex decides now is a good time to open his eyes. Christiano looks concerned but hopeful. “I didn’t wake up with a shit ton of new information this time, more or less just confirmations of things I already suspected.”

“¿Eso es bueno o malo?” Christiano asks while combing Alex’s hair with his fingers.

“Both?” Alex questioningly states. “It’s a good thing that the wards were able to detect the spark within him; it saved me a lot of reading after dinner last night. It’s a bad thing however, that his spark has been tainted with dark magic, old magic. We will have to take him to the hot springs in order to purify it. His saving grace is that the spirit that tainted his spark also used so much of it that the fire was extinguished. If we can purify his spark, and then reignite it using a strong anchor, he’ll make a full recovery.”

“¿Es una amenaza para nosotros?” By this point, Christiano rises his torso slightly to rest on his elbows.

“No, he is not a threat to us. He is a threat to himself and will continue to be until we purify his spark. The spirit that possessed him used fear and grief to ignite his spark the first time around. It’s effects still weigh heavy on his mind, but because his power is inactive at the moment, he is no more a threat to us than any other intelligent human in the know.”

“¿Puedes contenerlo?” A quick flash of Christiano’s red eyes express to Alex that his alpha is concerned for his emissary either way.

“Yes, I can contain his grief for now. There is no need to worry. He enjoys learning. He doesn’t always enjoy the truth that he uncovers, but he enjoys the adventure to find it. I can easily distract him with new knowledges until we are ready for the purification.” Alex takes a moment to soak in the visual of his alpha in concern. “Now, stop asking questions, I have just enough time to suck you dry before I have to wake the kids and take them to school.”

“¡Escandaloso!” Christiano growls with a smirk.

“What, Peter is going to bring himself to climax tonight by imagining me pinning you down on the training mat. He’s going to add the thought to his spank bank, wear it out for a few months, and hope that we give him more to work with soon... and it makes me kind of hot just knowing about it...” Alex explains while shuffling the two on the bed.

“¿Peter quiere verte follarme?” Christiano’s dick gives an interested twitch before Alex starts teasing the head with kitten licks.

Alex grabs hold of Christiano’s knot with both hands and gives a fond squeeze. “What did I just say about asking questions?”

Christiano gives an exaggerated wince in submission. “Lo siento mi cervatillo.”

——

Stiles approaches Alex and takes a seat besides him on the tree truck. “Is this what they normally do all day?”

Christiano and Peter are currently sparring on the tatami mat that takes up a moderate amount of space in the backyard of the main cabin. Derek and Cora are resting just off to the sidelines, panting heavily from exertion. All four wolfs are wearing workout attire that clings tightly to their bodies.

“Pretty much,” Alex sighs, “werewolves, as you know, have an increased metabolism. It’s because they have the combined metabolism of their basic human biology and their inner wolf biology. This has numerous advantages and disadvantages. All of their organs are stronger, in both physical strengths and functionality. This awards them enhanced healing but also shortens their natural lifespan.”

“What!?” Stiles practically shouts. “I knew they healed quickly, but why do they have a shorter lifespan?”

“Because they are mortal creatures. When a mortal creature is born, it immediately starts dying due to the fact that all biological cells have a finite number of times they can regrow. It’s called aging. If said creature has an increased metabolism, that means that every time they regrow organ tissues, then they are taking a step closer to that finite number of times their body can regenerate. If all six of us here end up dying of old age, then you and I will be the last ones standing, because our natural state of cellular regrowth is slower than theirs. There are of course exceptions to such notions, but they are few and far between.”

“Well shit,” Stiles says, slightly star struck.

Alex continues. “It also means that they have bigger energy reserves than we do, because their bodies can produce higher amounts of endorphins and absorb larger amounts of pressure without strain. The drawback here is that if they don’t release those energy reserves, they create higher-than-average tension build-ups. It’s like your ADHD, you are in a constant state of mental hyperactivity because of how many thoughts are building up in your head. So, they train, sometimes all day, to release that energy. It’s healthy.”

With this information, Stiles turns to study Derek. He’s... calm... relaxed even. Like, physically; and Stiles starts to question all of those times he thought of Derek as the moody, tense, sourwolf.

“Christiano is a lot to keep up with. He’s always doing something physical. It’s been nice having the Hales here because it gives him somebody to play with.” At this, Peter gives Chrtiano a naughty smirk. “He doesn’t like to train with me because he’s never able to beat me in a match. I’m the one who normally pins him to the training mat, so we spend most of our physical time in the bedroom.”

Alex winks at Stiles suggestively.

Peter raises his eyebrows at Christiano questioningly.

Stiles drops his jaw at Alex expectantly.

Christiano facepalms.

“You’re... but... you’re not a werewolf...” Stiles finally sputters out.

“No, but I do know every single move my opponent is going to make before they do.” Alex explains casually. “In an arm wrestle, he would win every time, but hand to hand combat is so much more than that. I have seven different black belts; some of them are second and third degree.”

Stiles, again, drops his jaw expectantly.

“I’m really good at learning things.” Alex shrugs. “He has only been able to beat me in a match one single time. And that was the very first match we ever had, on the very first day we ever met. Gave me my very first scar even.” Right about now, Christiano is pulling his shirt off and swiping away the sweat from his face. Peter is admiring the sight and Alex is laughing internally.

“The day you met?” Stiles asks.

“Yes.” Alex composes himself. “I was training, on and off, under my father, to become an the next Flores emissary. He had taken me to C.M.T.S.1 to discuss patrol routes with the Garcia Alpha, the pack we share our northern borderline with. The Alpha was sparring with his two sons. Christiano, the younger of the two sons, asked me if I wanted to spar with him. Later, I would learn that when meeting me, his wolf decided that I was going to be his mate and just wanted to be closer to me. Saying yes, turned out to be the best decision I have ever made.”

Peter rolls his eyes where Christiano has him in a headlock. “I was nine and Christiano was seven at the time. He had yet to achieve his full beta shift, and I had yet to develop any powers, so the playing field was relatively even. Before I knew it, he knocked me off of my feet and threw me to the floor. When I looked up he was inches from my face in full beta shift. I was so scared that I froze in place; I was utterly powerless to stop him as he leaned into the left side of my neck and bit me, claiming me as his mate. In that instant, my powers had awoken and I was given my first glimpse of foreknowledge: memories yet to come of our life together. We’ve been desperately in love ever since.”

Peter breaks from the headlock and rolls always. “Gag me.” He says in an annoyed tone while pretending to vomit.

“We just might.” Christiano says with a wink.

Cora actually does vomit in her mouth a bit and Derek just sighs.

“While your dads just stood there and watched?!” Stiles practically shouts.

“Alpha Garcia was so proud of his son for finally reaching a full beta shift that he didn’t react in time to pull him off of me. He was furious for sure, but Christiano had just became a member of the Flores Pack, so he couldn’t really punish him with the current Flores Pack Emissary present, father or not.” Alex rationalizes.

“Became a member of your pack? How?” By now, Stiles trying to form correct sentences was just a waste of time.

This is where Alex has been trying to get to the entire conversation. “When he bit me, the bond he had with his family pack snapped and reformed with me, which was due to a single technicality: I outranked him in pack dynamics. He and I were both Beta ranked, but I had the added title of ‘Emissary In Training.’ He didn’t have an added title because his older brother was the ‘Alpha To Be.’ This means that he was to submit to the hierarchy of pack bonds.”

“Normally, there would be traditional conditions to be met, but we kind of skipped all of them and fulfilled them at the same time. When he bit me, the sparring match became the ceremony, my acceptance of the match became my consent for the bite, him knocking me to the ground became him proving to the witnesses that he was a suitable protector, his brother and father became the witnesses, and my father became the officiant. It all just kind of happened coincidentally, so when the ‘ceremony’ concluded, the commitment held as it was suppose to.” Seeing the look on Stiles face, Alex knows that Stiles is exactly in the headspace he is suppose to be: lost. “You don’t know much about werewolf traditions do you?” Stiles shakes his head slightly. “Come with me, I have a lore book you should read.”

The two pass by Derek, who is staring at the ground like it’s suppose to protect him. He’s trying to hide the full on blush covering his face. Derek should have known Alex would appeal to Stiles’ need to understand things, ease him into it all. Cora reaches an arm out to comfort her Alpha. He should have stopped Alex, but part of him knows that he didn’t want to.

——

Alex takes Stiles to the study. And pulls the lore book from a drawer in his desk, as promised. “You may speak freely Stiles; this room, like every room on the estate is magically sealed from prying ears. I know there are two more questions you would like to ask before allowing yourself to fully believe that this is all real.”

Stiles takes the book and stands by one of the shelves; he must steady himself after hearing the implication that Alex knows exactly how troubled Stiles truly is. Stiles counts his fingers, and Alex waits patiently. “What are you?”

“I am a sage.” Alex’s states calmly. “The basis of my abilities are to understand and communicate with any person, place, or thing. Think of these words in a loose meaning. A person in this context could be another human, or the spirit of a plant. A place in this context could be a physical location, or a place in time. A thing in this context could be the book you are holding, or the very electricity within a light bulb. Words are just symbols: they are a representation of conscious concepts, but they are not the concept itself. I communicate with concepts.”

“A sage has been known throughout time by several definitions, but the easiest way to define a sage is a keeper of knowledge. Our purpose is to share necessary knowledge, to necessary people, at a necessary place, about a necessary thing.” Alex continues. “Sages are very rare, and no sage would ever announce himself as such unless absolutely necessary. Aside from you and I, Christiano is the only other person who knows what I truly am. Most sages find it easy to convince people that they are something else, of a psychic nature, and never reveal themselves at all.”

Alex knows that Stiles will need time to fully understand, if he ever truly does achieve an understanding, so he waits patiently. Alas, Stiles looks up to meet him in the eyes, “and your last question.”

“Why me?”

“Because you are in need of knowledge, knowledge that you would not believe if it came from anybody else. Without such knowledge, your soul would turn void, and all that is beautiful in this world would be in danger.” Alex deadpans.

Stiles tenses at the sudden use of the word void, and goes eerily still. “Yes Stiles, void. When you sacrificed part of your soul for the nemeton, a small void was created within you. That void, partnered with the spark of life that resides within you as well, attracted the Nogitsune to possess you. You have both, a space to limitlessly create life, and a space to limitlessly consume life within your very soul. The Nogitsune used these aspects to empower himself. He used your void to strip joy and love from everything around you, and he used your spark to create a physical vessel for his own soul to catch a ride in.”

Stiles chooses this moment to take a seat. “Your are the fourth person in all of existence to possess both a spark and a void. This essentially makes you something of a demigod. However, when the Nogitsune possessed you, he tainted your spark and tipped the scales of balance in your soul. This is why you are so troubled. The imbalance of life force within your soul is darkening the reality of your body and mind. If you are to survive, you must purify your spark, or retrieve the sacrificed part of your soul.”

“How?” The sorrowful expression on Stiles’ face is otherworldly. As if it doesn’t actually belong.

“The first choice would be the most viable one. It simply requires love: self love, familial love, romantic love, it doesn’t matter. Just any love powerful enough to overpower the hatred that has tainted your spark. The second choice is near impossible, not entirely impossible, but just nearly. It requires you to retrieve the part of your soul that you sacrificed, in order to fill the void within you. That would mean overpowering the nemeton and forcibly taking your fractured soul from its depths, which could easily kill you in the process. This is not the option I would chose, as it leaves you with a still tainted spark, and leaves a voided nemeton.” Alex is now proud of Stiles’ composure. Although the young man is uncomfortable and clearly still grieving, he has yet to collapse.

“Nobody could ever love me if they knew what I’ve become...” Stiles voice is nearly a whisper.

“I can name a few actually,” Alex interrupts.

Silence.

“No, your—“ Stiles tries to say.

“Young man, are you trying to argue... with a sage?” Alex interrupts once more. “Listen, I know you don’t believe me right now, but you will.”

Stiles stares at his hands again, counting.

Alex waits until he’s finished counting to ten. “Okay young man, that’s enough for now. You need to rest. Try not to think about this conversation too much. Read the book, when you’re finished, I’ll have another one ready for you. We are going to take baby steps, okay?”

Stiles simply nods and allows Alex to lead him out.

——

“He has yet to speak, hasn’t he?” Alex asks.

Peter stands up against the wall of the study. Christiano stands behind the chair Alex is sitting in. Derek is sitting across the desk from Alex.

Derek is the one to answer. “Correct, he hasn’t said a word since you spoke to him. He keeps counting his fingers and clutching the book you gave him. Cora is watching him now.”

Now it’s Peter’s turn. “May I ask what you told him?”

“I told him a few truths that he needed to hear.” Alex replies softly. “He will speak again, but for now, he needs to heal.” Christiano reaches to steady Alex’s shoulder. Speaking the truth can be just as taxing as receiving the truth, but it was necessary. “In the mean time, we need to assure that he will not be disturbed by outside forces. His old pack will be looking for him.”

“I can fix that.” Peter speaks up, with a devilish grin plastered to his face.

“And we can keep him safe as long as he remains in the territory.” Christiano announces. “Derek, what say you?”

“Anything to keep Stiles safe is my top priority right now. Peter, what did you have in mind?” Derek has come to fully trust Peter when the beta is planing something evil.

“A wild goose chase.” Peter snickers. “All I need is a full outfit of Stiles’, including a specific red hoodie, and his phone. Give me those and the McCall pack won’t be a concern. I can head out tomorrow morning and be back in two weeks.”

“Agreed,” Derek states with finality. He approaches Peter and rests his hand on his shoulder. “Do not fail me Peter. Do not fail Stiles.”

“I won’t Alpha,” Peter promises. ‘This is going to be fun’ Peter thinks to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex talks a lot, but we needed to get the “story’s goal” all laid out...
> 
> The next chapter is all Peter and boy is it a good one. My favorite to write so far!!!


	4. What The Fuck Did I Just See?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

Peter reaches Los Angeles in a matter of hours via a one-way flight ticket. He had always hated the city; it was torturous on his senses. This city does have its perks though: such as a large amount of young, desperately poor, want-to-be actors and models who work for low-rate agencies around town. It took Peter all of twenty minutes to find an agency with five young models that all shared Stiles’s physical build, height, and skin tone. God bless technology.

Peter has rented a downtown studio for two hours and paid the low-rate agency to send the models to the location for a ‘photoshoot.’

Instead of a photoshoot however, the young men walk into the studio to find a sectional table, with five briefcases, five duffle bags, and five stacks of legal paperwork.

Peter instructs the men to take a seat, one at each section. “Alright Stiles number one, two, three, four, and five, first things first. Open the briefcase in front of you; and no, none of you are going to die.”

Each model hesitantly opens their briefcase to find a large sum of cash. A flurry of excitement and relief assaults Peter’s senses. “Each one of your briefcases contains $10,000 cash. No it is not counterfeit. The money will be yours if you accept the job. You are to be stuntmen. No verbal acting necessary and there will be no violence. If you accept the job, it starts today and will finish roughly two weeks from now. You will be traveling very far away, and when you reach your destination, there will be another briefcase of $10,000 waiting for you. The duffel bag in front of you contains two weeks worth of spending cash and your wardrobe for the contract.”

None of the models seem to be protesting, some of them are studiously listening to Peter’s instructions, and some of them are already rummaging through the bag. Peter absolutely adores desperate idiots. “The last item in front of you is the contract itself, as well as a legal non-disclosure agreement. You have two choices, you can either leave the briefcase on the table, and walk out right now, or you can sign the paperwork. Choose.”

All five models sign the paperwork. “Very well gentlemen, let’s begin...”

——

**1 Day Later**

Blossom & Brewer Farms is a lovely greenhouse plant 45 minutes northeast of Beacon Hills, near Jurupa Valley. Peter loves it because there is no security system, meaning no cameras, and the multiple aromas distort any werewolf’s sense of smell so much so that their nose is utterly useless.

Here, is where Peter decides to give the McCall pack their first breadcrumb. He takes Stiles’ phone out of his pocket and powers it on. He then uses Stiles’s phone to call one of his very own cellphones, the unsecured one, the traceable one. He does not answer the call however, because that particular cellphone is neatly tucked away, in a safety deposit box, in a bank, across the street from LA City Hall. When the voicemail picks up, Peter ends the call.

About thirty seconds pass before Stiles’ phone receives an incoming call from one Lydia Martin. ‘Good job Danny, very diligent,’ Peter thinks to himself. Peter powers off the phone by the second ring.

——

**2 hours later**

Peter opens his safety deposit box to retrieve his unsecured cellphone and sees that he has 1 missed call from Stiles Stilinski, and 64 missed calls from Lydia Martin. ‘Well now, somebody is impatient.’ Peter thinks to himself.

Once more, another incoming call comes in from Lydia; putting the lady out of her misery, Peter answers it this time. “Alright, listen hear you little shit, as much as I adore being harassed by skinny twinks and entitled red-heads, I have been in and out of City Hall for the last several hours and the last thing I need while trying to close a case is 1,364 notifications barreling through my phone. Now, you have 60 seconds to tell me whatever the hell is more important than a 3.4 million dollar lawsuit, before I bite into every single designer handbag you’ve bought with daddy’s credit card!”

Peter can hear a sharp breath on the other end of the phone. “60 seconds Lydia...”

“I know Stiles tried to call you a few hours ago; do you know where he is? He’s been missing for over a week.” Lydia blurts out. She sounds furious and Peter can’t help but preen at a job well done.

“What do you mean Stiles is missing?” Peter asks... innocently.

“Stiles went missing over a week ago. Noah filed a Missing Persons report for him and we have Danny tracking his phone, but his phone has been off the whole time.” By now, Lydia is trying to lower her voice, she really is, but she’s not very successful. “He turned it on about two hours ago at some farm about an hour away from town and tried to call you in LA, but you didn’t answer. Noah and the pack went to go check out the farm but by the time they got there, nobody could pick up a scent. When Noah asked the owners of the farm where his son was, they had no idea anybody was on the farm today at all... I need to know why he called you Peter! I need to find him!”

Peter cannot control his laughter and begins cackling down the phone. “THIS IS NOT FUNNY PETER! I’M SERIOUS!” Lydia screams.

“Okay hold on!” Peter composes himself and reaches for lungfuls of breath. “You mean to tell me that Stiles Stilinski, Snow White’s dwarf: CLUMSY, has managed to evade the entire town of Beacon Hills, his father the sheriff, and the mighty True Alpha Scott McCall, FOR A WEEK! Oh Lydia, this is too good!”

“THIS ISN’T A JOKE PETER!!!!!” And suddenly, Peter is grateful to have a phone in between his werewolf ear, and Lydia Martin’s banshee scream.

“This is hilarious Lydia. I don’t know where the boy wonder is, and I don’t know why he called me, but I absolutely must see this debacle myself. I can be in Beacon Hills in a about three hours.” Peter says.

“UGH, fine, come to the Stilinski house!” Lydia demands before she hangs up the phone.

Peter stretches his shoulders and pops his neck, preparing himself for the punchline to one of his best practical jokes yet.

——

When Peter pulls up to the Stilinski house he is able to pick up six heartbeats. ‘Not the best turnout, but that’s fine’ Peter thinks to himself. He looks at his watch, which reads 4:20 pm. roughly ten minutes until showtime.

Peter knocks on the door gently, because he is a kind soul, and is greeted by none other than Lydia Martin. “Peter,” she says with a stern voice.

“In the resurrected flesh! *truth* Now, what’s this I hear about Stiles going lone wolf?” Peter asks with a smirk.

Lydia rolls her eyes and steps back inside. “Like I said, he’s been missing for a week.”

When Peter steps inside, he notes all six people in the house. Lydia, Noah, Scott, Malia, Theo, and Danny. Scott, Malia, and Theo all have maps thrown over the living room with circles and crosses over various locations. Danny is sitting at the dinning table with his laptop open. Noah is reading case files and missing persons reports across from Danny, and Lydia has her phone out receiving notification after notification.

The moment Noah realizes Peter has arrived, he gets up from the table and approaches the new wolf. Noah, for all his Sheriff glory, looks like a wreck. And the smell, dear god, is terrible. It’s a mix of cheap whiskey, anger, and confusion. “When was the last time you saw my son, Hale?” The words were like ice coming out of his mouth.

“The last time I saw Stiles was during training, Stilinski.” *truth* Peter had last seen Stiles during training at the Flores estate, but before that, the last time any member of the McCall pack was aware of Peter’s presence in proximity to Stiles, was several weeks prior when Peter had come to speak to Malia. Malia was training. Stiles was present. Peter is not going to clarify which instance he is referring to.

“And you have no idea why he turned on his phone, for a matter of two minutes, to try and reach you?” The Sheriff is beginning to compose himself and gradually put on his most intimidating facade.

“Where exactly have you been Sheriff? I already told Lydia that ‘I don’t know where the boy wonder is, and I don’t know why he called me!’” *truth* That is exactly what Peter told Lydia over the phone. Granted, it was a lie that nobody was around to detect, but it is a fact that those were the exact words he told her.

“I’ve been looking for my son who may or may not be a fugitive felon!” Noah all but shouts

“HE CONFESSED!” Scott roars out, shaking the papers in front of him. “He is a felon! We know this! He told us that he killed Donovan!”

“Then where is the body Scott!? Where is the evidence!?” Malia countered from across the coffee table. “What if Donovan isn’t actually dead, and you’re all just a bag of dicks!?”

Theo chooses now to speak up, stepping in front of Scott to challenge Malia. “There wasn’t a body but his blood was all over the library! The blood alone, with Stiles’ confession, is enough! Case closed!”

All three weres are completely shifted by now. It would seem that tensions have been high for awhile if they all have this little control. Peter is enjoying the previews to the feature film, sure, but he does start to maw on some of the new information he is learning.

“Incorrect!” Now it’s Lydia’s turn apparently. “Stiles also said it was self defense. We all know that Donovan had it out for the Sheriff because of his dad’s accident. Even if Stiles did Kill him, if it was in self defense then Donovan’s criminal history would support Stiles’ claim.”

“Oh yeah, self defense, sure!” Theo has now turned to the red head herself for a challenge. “Just like it was self defense when he murdered half of Beacon Hills hospital and stabbed Allison in the chest!?”

“YOU WEREN’T THERE THEO!” Lydia screams, and all supernaturals cover their ears in cower. “I was there; Scott was there! Stiles didn’t kill any of those people! Right Scott!?”

The house is suddenly filled with the smell of grief and heartbreak... Scott doesn’t answer...

‘Ahhh,’ Peter thinks to himself.

Sheriff Stilinski’s phone begins to vibrate in his pocket. Peter looks at his watch, 4:32, showtime. ‘Good work number five,’ Peter mentally notes. ‘Stiles number five’ had been given a burner phone and specific instructions to preform at 4:30.

“Sheriff Stilinski speaking,” Noah answers.

“Sheriff, it’s Deputy Morris, we got a hit on the anonymous hotline about a missing person in Beacon Hills that matches your son’s description.” The woman on the phone says.

“Where!?” The Sheriff asks while putting the phone on speaker for the non-weres in the room. Scott and Mailia turn to the Sheriff in shock, but Theo... Peter notices that Theo narrows his eyes ever so slightly and the left corner of his mouth twitches upwards towards a smirk; a scent falls underneath all the frustration in the room that can only be described as victory. ‘Interesting,’ Peter thinks.

“The caller stated that a young man, matching your son’s description, was seen purchasing a bus ticket at the station approximately four hours ago. The line was cut off before further details could be gathered.” Morris informs the room.

“Thank you Deputy Morris, I’ll head to the bus station right now to check it out. Call me if there are any further updates.” Noah ends the call as quickly as he can. “Danny, I need that footage!”

Everybody then shuffles into the kitchen to see if Danny can acquire the bus station’s security footage, expect Lydia. Lydia is shocked still, with a calculative expression of her face. “Four hours ago... that would have been the time that the entire pack was at the farm outside of town...”

‘Very good Lydia,’ Peter thinks to himself, wishing he had some popcorn for what was coming next.

By the time everybody has made it to the kitchen to watch Danny’s computer screen, the browser has already been opened to the security camera looking directly over the front desk. Peter slowly makes his way to the side of the room, so that he can see the computer screen and also have a good view of everybody’s reactions.

When Danny plays the recording, everybody can see ‘Stiles number one’ standing at the counter; he is wearing Stiles’ signature red hoodie, with said hood popped up, covering most of his face, and a black duffle bag thrown over his left arm.

“That’s him! That’s Stiles!” Malia shouts.

Relief seems to wash over everybody at this point. That is until ‘Stiles number one’ is walking away from the front desk, with not one ticket in his hand, but five. He then proceeds to step out to the middle of the lobby and stand by one of the center-most rows of waiting chairs, directly under the primary security camera.

Everybody’s expression gradually turns to confusion as ‘Stiles number two’ enters the bus station from the north entrance, ‘Stiles number three’ enters from the east entrance, ‘Stiles number four’ enters from the west entrance, and ‘Stiles number five’ steps out of the men’s restroom. All five men have gathered in the lobby, wearing the same wardrobe and carrying the same black duffle bag. “What the fuck is going on?” Scott mutters softly.

The five identical looking men nod at one another while ‘Stiles number one’ passes them each a bus ticket. Each ‘Stiles’ then proceeds to get in line for their respective bus routes: New York, Chicago, Phoenix, Philadelphia, and Columbus. Five of the most heavily populated cities in the United States. What the audience doesn’t know, is that each man is wearing at least one article of clothing that belongs to the original Stiles Stilinski, so that way, if anybody were to try and scent the busses, each one would smell just the same; no one bus would be any more filled with the scent of Stiles than the other.

By the time each bus has left the station, and Danny has stopped the recording, everybody’s expression has turned to shock and awe, except Theo’s. Theo... is angry. “What the fuck did I just see?” He says.

‘Hmm, interesting yet again,’ Peter thinks to himself.

“What you just saw, dildo for brains, was Stiles Stilinski, and four other guys who looked like Stiles Stilinski, board a bus and get as far away from town as possible, headed to a city that is so populated, that it’s nearly impossible for a werewolf to track you down in; all the while, the resident werewolf pack and town Sheriff are wasting away their time investigating some bull shit farm that completely overstimulates a werewolves’ senses, and is too old fashioned to have security cameras.” Lydia explains dryly.

‘Goddamnit Lydia, I could kiss you,’ Peter thinks to himself before he speaks. “Wasn’t Stiles the first person to ever ask Danny to use his computer hacking skills to help the pack track down a phone?”

“Yes...” Danny says shyly.

“So that means he was fully aware that you would be hunting him correct?” Peter asks innocently.

“Yes...” Danny says shyly once more.

“Well then,” Peter claps his hands, “I do believe that your maybe fugitive son is a genius.” *truth*

“But why call you to lead us to the farm?” Scott asks. “Why not call one of us?”

Peter rolls his eyes, for the drama of course, “perhaps, little pup, that particular phone call was not meant to be answered...” *truth*

...

...

“FUCK!” Scott roars!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!?!?!? Is it ‘Peter’ enough for you!?


	5. What Kind of Problem?

Theo shuts his car door and drives away from the Stilinski house. When he reaches his destination he flails around and punches the steering wheel with all his might.

Once relaxed, Theo reaches into his pocket and dials the only number that matters right now. The recipient answers quickly but Theo doesn’t give them time to speak. “We have a problem.”

...

“What kind of problem?” Is the reply of Dr. Alan Deaton.


	6. Sometimes, People Need To Shout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

“... also, once each bus had reached past Beacon Hills’ city limits, each ‘Stiles’ had been given instructions to change into their personal wardrobe that was sitting with them in the duffle bag. That way, if the authorities were to stop any of the busses, or wait at the destination of each route, not one single ‘Stiles’ would be found.” Peter’s voice carries out of the phone. “In conclusion, any and every search effort the McCall pack decides to pursue, they will be that much farther from learning the truth.”

Derek, Alex, and Christiano are currently sitting in the study; Derek’s phone is laying on the table with Peter on speakerphone. Alex and Christiano are smirking intently at one another. “I must admit Mr. Hale, you are quite the left hand. You have my respect.” Christiano compliments from his place in the study.

“The only people who call me Mr. Hale outside of professional obligations are the people who allow me to punish them, Alpha Flores.” Peter speaks over the phone. Derek rolls his eyes.

“Now is that any way to take a compliment... Mr. Hale?” Alex asks seductively while Christiano chuckles.

Peter GROWLS down the phone.

“Peter...” Derek warns. Although Peter can not see the flash of his alpha’s eyes, he can certainly hear it in his tone. “Are you sure that nothing can be traced back to any of us.”

“Yes Alpha,” Peter concedes. “I’m even taking precautions to retrieve Stiles’ diploma. There is a lawyer in Washington who owes me a favor; she will be the one to submit the paperwork to the school board. Coincidentally, she also happens to be a rather capable emissary who can contain her own secrets. If the sheriff were ever to investigate his son’s early graduation, he would need pentagon level security clearance to access the name of the lawyer who filed the paperwork.”

“Lastly, I’ve taken a look at Stiles’ case here in Beacon Hills and the ladies were correct.” Peter continues, “There is not enough evidence to charge him with anything, and his confession was not recorded or written. Which, in the court of law, means it never happened.” Just like Christiano, Derek is proud of his left hand. Peter has proven to be quite resourceful as of late. “So, how is Stiles doing anyway?”

Derek sighs in frustration; Alex decides to answer instead. “Stiles is alright; I can assure you. He has yet to speak but he will soon. I have brewed him some tea that is allowing him to sleep without nightmares. I promise it works; it’s a special recipe that my mother used to brew for me when I was young and didn’t have control of my abilities.”

Christiano places a reassuring hand on his mate’s shoulder. After Christiano bit Alex all that time ago, the young sage was riddled with horrific knowledges every time he slept. Christiano would howl and whine for hours on end, not knowing why his mate was in such pain all the time.

“Once he comes back to himself, I will begin preparing him for a purification ritual that will cleanse his soul of the side effects left by the Nogitsune.” Alex continues. “His consciousness is too resistant right now to allow the ritual to take effect at the moment. In order to cleanse his soul, we must first restrengthen his body and mind. I will start teaching him martial arts, and I will also mentor him in a few, select, supernatural studies. When he is in good health, we will take him to a grove of blessed hot springs in the mountains to preform the ritual.”

Alex and Christiano have been careful not to disclose specific information about Stiles’ spark or void to anybody. Alex only provides the information that is absolutely necessary. He knows that although he could detail the matter, it is important for Hale Pack to learn about such things from Stiles himself. “Until that time, he needs the comfort of his pack. He may not be a wolf, but the bonds he shares with all of you will be important to his recovery. He needs his alpha Derek; he needs you to be there for him.”

Derek nods confidently.

——

That following evening, Stiles finally speaks.

Derek and Cora are in the kitchen of the Hale cabin. Derek is baking; ever since his pack settled into the Flores guesthouse, he has been doing everything he can to provide for his betas. Cora is sitting at the bar, being an obedient second-in-command and keeping a close eye and ear out for Stiles. Stiles is sitting in the living room across the way, reading the lore book Alex had given him.

The cabin is mostly silent, until Stiles’ heart rate starts to increase like crazy. Derek and Cora share a worried look and try to tune into Stiles’ presence. Suddenly, a scent of arousal hit their noses and they both turn to look at the young beta.

“DEREK!” Stiles shouts from a few yards away, clumsily rushing to slam the open lore book on the kitchen counter. “DO YOU HAVE A KNOT!?”

Derek’s face immediately flushes red in embarrassment and Cora slips off of the stool at the bar to quickly make her escape. “Nope, not doing this, not a chance in hell,” she says before diligently stepping out the back.

“What?” Derek asks, completely shocked by the sudden question.

“Okay so look, Alex gave me this lore book about werewolf traditions right. Well, apparently, after the mating ceremony, the couple are suppose to consummate the ceremony on like some sort of werewolf honeymoon. A honeymoon, where the male is suppose to knot the female in order to impregnate her so they can have little werewolf pups...” Stiles informs, scent more filled with interest and curiosity than it has been in days. “Is it true Derek? Does your cock get so big and fat that it literally gets stuck in a bitch!?”

“Are you serious right now!?” Derek nearly shouts at his mate.

“Yes Derek! Inquiring minds want to know!” Stiles nearly shouts back. “Is it true; do you get stuck inside of somebody for an hour!?”

“WHY DO YOU HAVE TO ASK ME, OF ALL PEOPLE, ABOUT MY COCK!?” Derek is full on shouting now.

“BECUSE I DON’T HAVE ANYBODY ELSE!” Stiles full on shouts back... and just like that, the words that have just been spoken register to both men as a wave of grief washes over Stiles. Tears begin to wallow in his eyes and he returns to silence.

 _‘He needs his alpha Derek; he needs you to be there for him.’_ Alex’s words echo in Derek’s mind; Derek Is overcome with shame. His wolf has been gnawing at the back of Derek’s mind to comfort and provide for his mate all this time, and when he finally gets the chance to do so, Derek yells and pushes him further away instead.

Tears start to roll down Stiles’ face. “I’m... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Stiles’ voice is pitiful and Derek’s wolf howls within him. Stiles makes to turn away and leave but Derek’s wolf can’t let that happen. Derek’s instincts kick in and he rushes to grab his mate by the arm and turn him back around.

Stiles and Derek stare painfully into each others eyes. Salty tears are escaping both men now. So many words are being exchanged between them, but none of them are said. Pain, longing, suffering.

Derek doesn’t know what to say. He’s afraid that if he speaks again, he’ll just make matters worse. His wolf wants to close the distance between the two, and hold their mate until all the pain is washed away. _‘He may not be a wolf, but the bonds he shares with all of you will be important to his recovery.’_ Alex’s words ring in his head once more.

At the thought of seeing Stiles in grief for one more moment, Derek gives into his wolf. He embraces Stiles tightly and rests his nose directly on Stiles’ neck, right at his pulse point. From here, he can smell every emotion Stiles is going through, all the pain, all of it. But when Derek begins to pick up the relief and comfort of rainwater and oak, his wolf howls in triumph.

“Yes.” Derek says shyly. “I do have a knot, but I’ve never used it before. Paige didn’t know about werewolves at the time and I didn’t know that Kate did either.” They stay interlocked with one another for a few minutes before Derek finally pulls away to look at Stiles once more. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Stiles looks better now. His face is still flushed but the tears have stopped streaming. Derek sees something like love in his eyes now, buried beneath all the pain, but it’s there. They will be okay.

“Tell me what else you’ve learned.” Derek says, gazing at the book.

Stiles coughs, “okay... umm, well...”

——

**A Few Weeks Later**

Derek approaches Alex and takes a seat besides him on the backyard patio. Stiles and Cora are currently training on the tatami mat in the back. Just as promised, Alex has been teaching Stiles basic martial arts and every few days, Stiles will end up back in the cabin with a handful of new books and tomes. Stiles is well; he and Derek talk about what he’s learning and everything is okay. “You knew what would happen when you gave him that book didn’t you?” Derek asks out into the open space, knowing Alex can hear him.

Alex places a gentle hand on Derek’s knee and gives a comforting squeeze. “Sometimes, Derek, people need to shout at each other in order to realize how much passion is actually there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wipes aways tear...
> 
> Feel free to comment and express yourself, I love everything you guys have to say!


	7. I’m Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

Stiles enters the Hale cabin anxiously. He’s clutching a small wooden box to his side as if it’s a life vest keeping him afloat.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks from where he is standing at the dining table. He rushes to inspect Stiles for injury. “You don’t smell right. Are you hurt? You shouldn’t be training too harshly; you need to take your time. Do you want me to speak to Alex? Is he doing too much? I can tell him he needs to—“

“No,” Stiles quickly interrupts, “I’m not hurt. Training is fine.” From entering the cabin, Stiles can see Cora standing at the dining table, she and Derek seem to have been looking at a map of the territory, and Peter is lounging on the couch in the living room.

“Then why do you smell like a burnt marshmallow?” Derek asks.

Stiles gives him a look that says ‘really,’ but doesn’t say anything. He slowly passes the wooden box to Derek instead. “This is for you.” Stiles announces nervously. “I wanted to thank you. You know, for everything.”

Derek gives Stiles a quizzical look, but recedes. He takes the box and places it on the dining table with the map. When he opens the box, he looks at the three miniatures for a moment before he picks up the one that looks eerily like himself in alpha form. It’s a wolf, just like the other two miniatures in the box, but this one has a full black coat of fur and red eyes.

Stiles speaks, unable to endure the silence. “It’s you, as a wolf. The other two are suppose to be Cora and Peter.”

“Where did you get these?” Derek asks, admiring the miniatures. The smaller wolf has a full coat of dark brown fur and beta yellow eyes; the last wolf looks a lot like Derek’s wolf, but this one has accents of white and silver in it’s fur and beta blue eyes.

“I made them.” Stiles says shyly. Derek looks up at his mate in pure admiration. “Alex says that I need to be more crafty. He said that although humans need to be able to defend themselves in dangerous situations, in a pack, they are relied upon to be resourceful more so than anything, and shouldn’t be in the front lines if they can help it. So... he said we needed to start doing some sort of craft. We hiked up to a nearby cave to get some clay that can be manipulated easily and baked in an oven, and then we ground up some flowers and berries to make the dye to paint them.” Stiles finishes his word vomit and is staring at the floor, trying to remain calm. “If you don’t like them I can—“

“NO!” Derek quite literally shouts. “I like them! They’re...” Derek is trying to speak, he really is, but his mate just presented him with a personalized, homemade gift for the first time and his wolf is losing his fucking mind.

“It’s the Hale pack...” Stiles blurts out.

...

“No it’s not,” Derek finally responds with. Stiles looks taken aback, partially offended. “The collection is missing one.” Stiles and Derek won’t stop gazing at each other, longingly. Stiles eyes begin to water and Derek can see that look again, something like love. Derek’s wolf goes absolutely crazy.

MATE! LOVE! MATE! GIFTS! MATE! MATE! HOLD HIM YOU IDIOT! YOU LOVE HIM!

Derek gives in. He approaches Stiles and holds him in a tight embrace, placing his nose in the crook of his neck again. “Thank you Stiles. They’re beautiful.” Derek mutters from his safe space alongside Stiles.

Peter pretends to vomit from the couch and Cora stares at them in pure admiration.

They stay like this for a moment, bodies against each other, Derek basking in the sent of togetherness. Stiles is speechless (I MEAN HELLO!? GREEK GOD CURRENTLY GIVING STILES A BONER!) Somebody coughs, and Derek pulls away from stiles. They see each other again. Both men are flushed with arousal but nobody is going to bring it up. Stiles is grateful.

“So, umm, what’s going on here?” Stiles asks, looking at the map on the table.

“We’re looking at patrol routes.” Cora answers.

Derek is now neatly gathering his gift and making his way to the master bedroom. He places his miniatures on the nightstand by his bed.

“The Flores pack is strategically incredible, but their numbers are still few. Christiano is personally responsible for the ‘Alpha’s den’ of C.M.T.S.5 which would be the estate, but he is also responsible for maintaining a few patrol routes across his section of the territory because his pack doesn’t have the numbers yet to assign them.”

“Currently, there’s Christiano and his emissary-mate, as well as their four children. The children are capable in their own stead, but the oldest is only 11, they are far too young to be handed patrol routes.” Cora explains.

Cora is right. All of the children are quite capable, Stiles knows. The oldest is Daichi at age 11: a mountain kitsune that Christiano and Alex adopted right after their first child was born. The parents were a kitsune couple that were on the run from hunters and couldn’t care for their one year old baby. Then there is Alicia at age 10: she is the first born child and heiress to the Flores Alpha line. Alex is her biological father, and her biological mother is Christiano’s younger sister, one of the Garcia wolves of the C.M.T.S.1 pack. Then, there are the fraternal twins at age 9, Julian and Juliana. Their father is Alex still, but their mother is Christiano’s left hand, a human witch who lives in the mountain.

While Alicia will become the following Alpha, Daichi will become her second-in-command. Juliana, a witch like her mother, will become the left hand, and Julian, a shaman like his grandfather, will become the next pack emissary.

“Then there is Maricella, Christiano’s left hand witch, and her werewolf mate Rafael.” Cora continues. “They patrol the mountain side that shares a border with C.M.T.S.4, but they come to the estate very rarely. Christiano goes to their home in the mountains for report because Maricella is expecting their second child at the moment. There are also two more werewolf betas who assist Christiano to maintain their section of the territory, but they are widely scattered over a large area. Christiano will only call a pack meeting in dire situations because of how small their pack is. Thankfully, Alex has numerous wards across their section of the territory that alert him when danger is near.”

“So you’re trying to bolster their numbers.” Stiles states, understanding the dilemma.

Derek has made his way back to the dining area at this point. “Yes,” he says, “it’s only fair that we contribute to the safety of the territory while we reside here, but I want to have a solid plan in mind before I approach Christiano. I’m hoping that our help will ease some of the responsibilities he is working so tearlessly for, so that he can continue to grow and strengthen his pack.”

Stiles stares at the map for a moment, seeing the triangular shape of C.M.T.S.5. “Okay, well what if you split it into two man teams?” Stiles speaks up, unaware that all three wolves are looking at him expectantly.

“Two man teams?” Cora asks.

“Yeah, see look,” Stiles answers while pointing to the map. “If Maricella and Rafael maintain the section four border, and Christiano’s two betas take turns patrolling the section one border, than all that leaves is the outer laying border of the territory. I think that Peter and Cora could take turns patrolling the outer border if Derek and myself maintain patrols that cover the innermost area of section five itself.”

“That way, each team can be stationary at one place. If there is ever any trouble, then I would be able to rendezvous at the estate with Alex and the kids, and Derek, since he can preform a full Alpha shift, would be able to make his way anywhere in the section quickly enough to provide assistance. If this works out, then Christiano can flow freely throughout the territory without being responsible for any of the patrols.” Stiles looks up to see all the wolves staring at him intently.

“It’s a better plan then either of you have come up with.” Peter says mockingly to Derek and Cora.

Cora looks at Derek with an approving smirk. Derek is lost in his admiration for his mate. “... yeah, it’s a good plan.” Derek says calmly. “I’ll bring it up to Christiano this afternoon.”

Stiles blushes at the praise.

——

A few days have passed as Stiles enters the cabin once more after finishing up his training with Alex. Derek and the rest of the pack are waiting for Stiles in the living room. ‘Okay, this isn’t daunting and suspicious,’ Stiles thinks to himself.

“Hey guys.” Stiles says tentatively. “Is something wrong?” He asks.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Derek says quickly. Peter and Cora give Derek a reassuring smile. “Christiano was thrilled to hear your plan, and we’ve worked out all of the patrol rotations and reporting. We will begin next week.” Stiles smiles happily, knowing that he was able to support his pack. “But there is something else...” At this, Stiles looks at Derek quizzically. Derek gathers his resolve to speak next, although the words come out nervously. “The next time I meet with another pack about territorial politics, even the Flores Pack... I want you there with me... as my emissary...”

Stiles is star struck. Damn Derek and his ability to take away Stiles’ words! “Hu?” Stiles asks, very intelligently.

“We don’t have one right now.” Cora answers. “Alex has helped us so far with most of our emissary needs, but he doesn’t belong to the Hale Pack. He is only an ally. Some day, eventually, the Hale pack will recover from everything that has happened, and we will need an emissary that can survive along side us.”

Stiles looks at the three and shakes his head. “I don’t know, I—“

“Stiles, listen well, because I’m only going to say this once.” Peter interrupts. “I have never met another human who is as stubborn or as reckless when it comes to protecting his pack as you are. You are a fool to fall so deeply into this world and you are moronic for wanting to stay. You are one of the few people who know the struggles we have been through and you are the only one who has trusted us to keep you safe either way, even when you shouldn’t. These are all qualities that put you in the direct line of danger.”

Stiles is overcome with embarrassment and shame, but Peter continues. “But these are also the qualities that make you the perfect candidate for becoming the Hale Pack emissary.” Stiles looks up at Peter this time. “You are loyal, selfless, intelligent, and disturbingly willing to do anything and everything you can for the people who are important to you.”

Stiles is now mixed with a rollercoaster of emotions. He’s proud, but something is holding him back. “I can’t.” Stiles shakes his head again, refusing to look at the others. “There’s something wrong with me. I can’t expect you guys to trust me.” He explains. “When I died for the nemeton a while back, something happened. Alex says that there is some sort of void within me, something that destroys everything around me.”

Stiles looks defeated, and the wolves don’t know how to comfort their pack mate. “And when the Nogitsune possessed me, he tainted my spark. It’s something that Deaton told me about a long time ago and now there’s something wrong with it... wrong with me.” Stiles continues. “I’ve hurt so many people.”

There’s a beat of silence before somebody speaks up. “I killed Paige...” Derek states for all to hear. In fact, it may be the first time he’s ever spoken the words out loud.

Peter looks to him and then looks to Stiles with his own amount of shame. “I killed Laura...”

Cora pipes in then, “I ran... I ran away to South America. I never cared to look for my family until after so much damage was already done and over with. If I would have had the courage to find The others, things could have been different for us. Boyd and Erica wouldn’t have had to die.”

Stiles looks at his pack, realizing, maybe for the first time, that he isn’t the only broken soul here. “You’re not going to be the perfect emissary.” Derek announces. “You’re going to make mistakes. Just like I’m going to make mistakes, just like Peter, just like Cora.” Derek says as the other wolves nod in agreement. “But we aren’t asking you to be perfect. What we’re asking you do to, is make those mistakes along side the rest of us. So that we can grow. So that we can learn. So that we can support each other. It’s what a pack does.”

A single tear rolls down Stiles’ cheek as he remembers what Alex once told him...

_**  
“Nobody could ever love me if they knew what I’ve become...” Stiles’ voice is nearly a whisper._

_“I can name a few actually,” Alex interrupts._  
**

“Okay...” Stiles finally agrees.

——

**A Few Months Later**

Stiles is doing well. After becoming the Hale Pack Emissary, Stiles took his job seriously. He trained harder, studied longer, and patrolled dutifully alongside his alpha.

Derek and Stiles learn to lean on one another. They allow Christiano and Alex to become their role models.

Stiles’ heart is lighter. The terrible things he’s done can never be erased, but he’s learning to share the burden with his pack. Because of this, he requests that everybody come to the Hale cabin so that he may speak to them.

When everybody arrives, Stiles takes a deep breath before making his announcement. “I’m ready.” He says while looking at Alex intently. “I’m ready for the purification ritual.”

Alex smiles grandly. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t act like you don’t already know that I’m sure.” Stiles quips.

Everyone chuckles.

“Alright, we can make for the hot springs a few days from now, but there are a few details we need to discuss,” Alex responds, Stiles nodding intently. “Firstly, my own personal magic reserves are not very large, so Christiano will accompany us. Since he and I are fundamentally bound to one another, I’ll be able to use his alpha spark to help me preform the ritual.” Christiano squeezes Alex’s shoulder to show support for his mate. “Secondly, you will need to be in the center of the hot spring while I ask the blessed waters to purify your soul. It will be uncomfortable to say the least and the hot spring is very deep, in order to keep you safe, somebody will need to keep your head above the waterline while you’re body is undergoing the transformation.”

The three Hales look at each other in silent agreeance. “I’ll do it.” Derek states.

Stiles looks at Derek in admiration and blushes slightly.

“Very good,” Alex proclaims. “Stiles, do you agree to allow Derek to act as your anchor and safety net for the purification ritual?”

Stiles nods enthusiastically, “yes, I agree.”

“Very well,” Alex responds. “Lastly, Peter and Cora, I’d like to recommend you join us in the mountains. It is not required but I think it would be best for the pack to be together.” Peter and Cora both agree. “Alright then, let’s get ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg yay! As always, comments are always welcome; I love everything you guys have to say!


	8. I Will Never Let Go of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you wanted a twist? Come on chapter 8, let’s get SICKENING!

Stiles approaches the hot spring. Alex was right, it’s deep. A hint of nerves make its way though him, but he looks behind him to see Derek, and his pack, offering support.

All parties are in attendance. Except for the children of course, they are spending the weekend with Maricela and Rafael.

“Alright Stiles,” Alex begins. “This may take some time. Once I begin the ritual, your spark may try to fight back; I can assure you however, I am much more powerful than your spark at the moment. The waters will answer to me no matter what. When your soul is ready to submit, the ritual will be complete.”

Stiles nods anxiously.

“Alright then,” Alex continues. “Stiles, Derek, please make your way to the center of the spring.”

Stiles and Derek strip themselves of all but their boxer briefs and make their way to the water. It’s hot, but just slightly uncomfortable. The two men silently decide to face one another for the ritual: Derek wants to see his mate’s face to ensure he will be okay, Stiles wants to see the faces of his pack for support. Derek places both of his hands on Stiles’ side, just over his rib cage, in order to tread the water.

Christiano sits cross-crossed on the opposing side of the remaining Hale Pack. Alex sits cross-crossed on Christiano’s lap. Christiano’s eyes begin to glow red as Alex shuts his eyes to begin the chant. His words are ethereal, a mix between Spanish and Native American tongues. The water of the spring begins to dance.

For now, Stiles is fine to help Derek tread water. He can feel something within him start to vibrate; It feels like how a bumblebee sounds. An hour passes by before darkness starts to appear in the water. Stiles feels exhausted and the water begins to dance violently. He dares a look below, what he sees is daunting: his body seems to be leaking some sort of dark ink. It’s fighting the water of the spring and Stiles begins to feel nervous.

“Hey,” he hears Derek call, “it’s okay Stiles, we’ve got you. I won’t let go.” Stiles nods to his alpha.

...

Another hour passes by and Stiles is losing hope. The water is still fighting valiantly, but the ink coming from Stiles is growing deeper and wider. He can feel his body going limp. He doesn’t know what’s happening. He thought the love of his pack was going to be enough. He thought he could survive. Is he going to die here? Is he going to drown? Will his soul submit to the ritual or not?

He chances a glance at Derek. There is worry in his alpha’s eyes. His worry begins to remind him of some time ago. The moment he held Derek for two hours in the school swimming pool so that the werewolf wouldn’t die. Does Derek feel the same worry that Stiles felt? ‘That would be unfortunate,’ Stiles thinks to himself, ‘that was the moment I realized I was in love with the sourwolf.’

...

Memories begin to flood though Stiles’ mind.

_**  
Alex: “Later, I would learn that when meeting me, his wolf decided that I was going to be his mate and just wanted to be closer to me.”  
**  
Derek gives into his wolf. He embraces Stiles tightly and rests his nose directly on Stiles’ neck, right at his pulse point.... They stay interlocked with one another for a few minutes before Derek finally pulls away to look at Stiles once more. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”  
**_

“Derek...” Stiles says tentatively in the water, another memory flashing through.

_**  
Derek gives in. He approaches Stiles and holds him in a tight embrace, placing his nose in the crook of his neck again. “Thank you Stiles. They’re beautiful.”  
**_

“...am I your mate?” Stiles questions. At this, all three Hales stare at Stiles in the water with a shocked expression. Derek doesn’t answer, he doesn’t need to though; Stiles already knows.

_**  
Alex: “You must purify your spark, or retrieve the sacrificed part of your soul... The first choice would be the most viable one. It simply requires love: self love, familial love, romantic love, it doesn’t matter. Just any love powerful enough to overpower the hatred that has tainted your spark... This may take some time... When your soul is ready to submit, the ritual will be complete.”  
**_

A few minutes pass before Derek answers, “Yes... yes Stiles, you are my mate; I will never let go of you.” The double meaning is not lost on Stiles. Derek goes into his beta shift at the confession, eyes blazingly crimson. The two men stare at one another intently.

_**  
Alex: “It all just kind of happened coincidentally... When I looked up he was inches from my face in full beta shift. I was so scared that I froze in place; I was utterly powerless to stop him as he leaned into the left side of my neck and bit me, claiming me as his mate... Gave me my very first scar... We’ve been desperately in love ever since.”  
**  
Alex: “And this is Stiles Stilinski...” Alex makes a seemingly nonchalant glance at the left side of Stiles’ neck while taking a pause. ‘What is he looking for?’ Stiles thinks to himself. And just then, Derek comes up to stand beside Stiles and places a strong hand on his shoulder.  
**_

Stiles turns to look at Peter and Cora, he can hear Alex behind him, continuing to chant.

_**  
Alex: “Normally, there would be traditional conditions to be met, but we kind of skipped all of them and fulfilled them at the same time. When he bit me, the sparring match became the ceremony, my acceptance of the match became my consent for the bite... ...Stiles, do you agree to allow Derek to act as your anchor and safety net for the purification ritual?”  
Stiles: “Yes, I agree.”  
**  
Alex: “...him knocking me to the ground became him proving to the witnesses that he was a suitable protector... ...Secondly, you will need to be in the center of the hot spring while I ask the blessed waters to purify your soul... somebody will need to keep your head above the waterline while you’re body is undergoing the transformation.”  
Derek: “I’ll do it.”  
**  
Alex: “...his brother and father became the witnesses... ...my own personal magic reserves are not very large, so Christiano will accompany us... Peter and Cora, I’d like to recommend you join us in the mountains. It is not required but I think it would be best for the pack to be together.”  
**  
Alex: “...and my father became the officiant... ...Once I begin the ritual, your spark may try to fight back; I can assure you however, I am much more powerful than your spark at the moment. The waters will answer to me no matter what.”  
**  
Alex: “...so when the ‘ceremony’ concluded, the commitment held as it was suppose to”  
**_

Stiles cannot look away from the beautiful werewolf in front of him. When he speaks next, all worry has been washed from his soul, and his words are nothing but the truth. “Then bite me, Derek, because I will never let go of you either.”

Peter and Cora are in shock... Christiano is smiling madly while Alex continues to chant...

“Oh you sneaky bitch...” Peter says to Alex as realization hits. Christiano teases Peter with a wink while Alex is preoccupied.

Derek is lost. Crimson eyes stare into honey-amber eyes and Derek’s mind cannot comprehend what’s happening; but his wolf knows what to do. He leans into Stiles’ neck, to the same spot he has held his mate so many times, the same spot where Alex once searched for the mating scar, and bites down.

Stiles’ eyes flash supernatural: his left eye going a voided pitch black, lacking any color or light, his right eye shinning a pure, untainted, bright white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay show of hands, how many of you picked up on ANY of the foreshadowing?????
> 
> P.S. By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).


	9. Stop Holding Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m just gonna say it. You’re welcome.

Stiles immediately passes out after the success of the purification ritual. Nearly feral and still in beta shift, Derek is so territorial of his mate that he doesn’t allow anybody else to touch him. He silently dresses Stiles and then himself before packing up to head home. The flash of Stiles’ eyes is a surprise to some, but the combined packs remain silent in respects and admiration.

Derek carries his mate bridal style down the mountainside; it isn’t a long hike, maybe an hour or two. The group arrives at the edge of the mountainside where the forest begins. Everybody disperses to ensure the route to the cabin is safe for the newly official mates to make their way back to their den.

At this point, Stiles finally awakens. When He opens his eyes, it is to his beta-shifted mate carrying him through the forest. Stiles can see the visible relaxation his mate adorns as Derek returns to his human form; Stiles is well, purified, and in good health. As one of the most rare instances in his life, Stiles does not believe any words are necessary at the moment.

Stiles clutches his mate tightly, unable to keep his hands and lips away from the alpha’s chest and neck. Derek’s wolf absolutely SURGES at the attention, but the alpha will wait until he and his mate are in the den before the ravishment begins. Stiles’ safety is still the upmost priority.

——

Stiles and Derek enter the master bedroom in a flurry of groping and aggressive kissing. By the time the two men arrive back at the cabin, Derek’s neck is absolutely RIDDLED with soft, blunt bite marks and hickeys that he had prevented from healing. And Stiles... well... Stiles is having a very difficult time not coming in his pants...

Derek is standing, stationary, while holding Stiles above the ground by his ass cheeks. Derek’s claws start to protrude due to his current lack of control, and Stiles moans into his mate’s mouth as pointed fingernails begin to cut through his jeans and scratch his ass. Derek retracts his claws before he breaches skin.

“Take this goddamn shirt off already!” Stiles commands as he begins pulling the back of Derek’s shirt up to remove it from the werewolf. Derek however, is still holding Stiles by the ass, and his shirt will not come off. Derek decides then to toss Stiles upward slightly so that he can reposition his hands at Stiles’ side without dropping his precious cargo.

Stiles is shocked by the slight jolt upwards and doesn’t have time to recompose himself before he is quite literally thrown across the room to Derek’s bed. He lands on his back, facing upwards, with an audible ‘umph.’ He brings his elbows up far enough to prop his head and see Derek.

Derek is a sight... he’s lost his shirt (it’s in pieces on the floor now) and is currently stalking up to the bed with crimson eyes blazing. He is panting heavily and his claws and fangs keep growing and regressing with every step he takes. In this moment, he is a predator, savoring the excitement of his prey.

The visual awakens something within Stiles. His lifeless and gifting eyes flash supernatural and meet the eyes of his crimson colored mate. Instantly, Stiles is brought to climax... fully clothed... utterly untouched...

The smell of Stiles’ semen hits Derek’s nose and he has to lock himself in place, as to not pounce on his mate wildly. He losses a semblance of control and advances to a full beta shift. A low yet loud growl settles in the room, beneath the baseboards.

Stiles pants pitifully before he speaks. “Dude, that’s totally not fair.”

Derek slowly returns to his human form to control his breathing. “Don’t call me dude.” He says in an intense tone, but there is not anger behind it.

Stiles’ eyes have returned to normal and he looks at his mate lovingly. “Yes... alpha.”

And just like fucking that, Derek loses control again. His eyes flash as his fangs and claws grow. His wolf takes over, completely done with Derek’s patience, and pounces on the bed. To the outside world, right about now would look like Derek is brutally ripping into Stiles’ body with his open claws, seeking blood, but Stiles knows better.

Stiles waits patiently until Derek is finished. When the wolf if finally done, Stiles’ clothes are in tatters around the bed and the floor; his body is lined with a few scratch marks but nothing that worries him. His cock is moist with the results of his previous climax and rests lazily at half-mast to the left side.

Derek’s nose flares wildly as his face makes it’s way down to Stiles’s crotch. He tucks in his fangs and begins to fully lick all of the fluids left on his mate’s skin.

‘Oh,’ Stiles thinks intelligently. His cock gives an interesting twitch and begins to grow once more.

Derek moves all of Stiles’ equipment around as he dutifully continues his oral pilgrimage across his personal wonderland, licking everything from the thighs, to the shaft, to the underside of Stiles’ scrotum.

When Derek is finished cleaning Stiles of his release, the wolf decides that he needs more, from the source, immediately, and shoves his mouth so far down Stiles’ fully erect cock that he spasms in ecstasy.

Derek’s work is aggressive now. He works tirelessly to hollow out his cheeks on every upturn and massage Stiles’ shaft with his tounge on every downturn, all the while mastering the ability to breathe through his nose. Stiles begins loud ministrations and tights grasps of the sheets below him and Derek is losing control. His fangs begin to drop ever so slightly and scratch Stiles’s cock just minimally. A surge of arousal hits Derek’s nose and he goes for broke.

Derek shoves his head fully down Stiles’ cock, right to the base, and begins to compress the shaft with his throat muscles.

This does something to Stiles. “Oh my God,” he screams. He reaches down to capture the back of Derek’s head tightly and begins to grind his cock further down into Derek’s wet cave of pleasure. At the same time, Derek opens his mouth slightly and starts lapping at Stiles’ testicles. It is now when the first rope of Stiles’ second climax pulses its way down his shaft and into his mate’s throat.

They continue like this for a moment, Stiles twitching spastically around the bed while Derek simply won’t let go. When Stiles has been sucked dry, and Derek finally pulls up to see his mate, Stiles is in a drunken daze, blissfully ignorant of the werewolf currently removing his pants.

When Stiles’ world returns to normal, Derek is pulling Stiles’ knees up towards his chest and practically forcing him to hold them in place. With a clear view of Stiles’ virgin hole, Derek knows that he needs to relax and stretch his mate before the fun part begins.

Step one, eat the booty like fuckin’ groceries...

And eat the booty, Derek does. Stiles is a withering mess not but a few minutes into the excavation. He twists and turns during his moans, causing him to have a difficult time keeping his legs in place to give his mate the space that is needed. “Derek, if you don’t put something inside of me soon I’m literally going to start kicking you because I can’t hold this forever.”

Derek chuckles from his place between Stiles’ legs; this results in another moan from the withering emissary-mate and his legs start to slip.

Unable to resist the request (threat?) from his mate, Derek reaches for his nightstand where he keeps a bottle of lube, but hesitates as he sees the three miniature wolves that Stiles made him. Derek’s heart SOARS with love and affection. Stiles truly loves him. This is more than years of sexual tension; this is real. The epiphany helps Derek gain control of himself, hopefully long enough to stretch Stiles out without cutting within him.

He starts slow, with just one finger, thankfully enough, Stiles is relaxed and the finger slides in easily. When Stiles would finger himself, his long, slinger fingers would slip in and out without much tension, leading him to apply multiple fingers at a time just to get enough friction going. Derek, on the other hand, has strong, thick, calloused fingers that touch Stiles’ in all the right places. It’s almost as if Derek’s hands were made for Stiles’ body.

When Derek’s second finger makes its way in, Stiles is in pure bliss; Derek’s two fingers are the equivalent of Stiles’ three. His cock is slowly returning to it’s full stiff and he’s avoiding Derek’s gaze as to not accidentally come undone before the main course has begun... but Stiles’ patience is warring thin. “Another!” He breathes out.

When Derek’s third finger makes it’s way in, Stiles holds his breath at the new sensation. Derek’s masterful hands are stretching Stiles to new heights and Stiles can barely contain himself. A few seconds pass before Derek finds that little nugget of pleasure within Stiles. He starts to massage it and notes it’s exact location to memory before Stiles quite literally yells at him. “OKAY THAT’S IT! IF YOU DON’T FUCK ME INTO THIS MATTRESS RIGHT FUCKING NOW I’M GOING TO PUT WOLFSBANE IN ALL OF YOUR LUBE AND RIDE YOU UNTIL YOU’RE A PATHETIC MESS BEGGING FOR FORGIVENESS!”

Derek is shocked to say the least, both at his mates eagerness, but also at the pure power behind Stiles’ voice. It sounds like an alpha’s voice, but different, distorted in some way, as if parts of his very soul are bursting at the seams and forcing their way through: lust and love are pouring down his mate bond at a supernatural rate.

Derek’s wolf rolls to its belly in submission and Derek knows his life has changed forever. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do for his mate.

Without argument, Derek slicks up his cock with a generous amount of lube and slowly pushes past Stiles’ entrance. Derek’s cock is quite impressive, but he certainly doesn’t want to harm his mate.

Stiles rolls his eyes and moans, “ohh myy gawwd!” Stiles quickly reaches behind Derek’s waist to grab his ass and pulls Derek all the way inside himself. Derek is unable to stop the growl that permeates from him as his eyes flash Crimson before he pulls back his feral nature.

“Don’t do that,” Stiles says, “stop. Stop holding back.” Stiles stares at Derek for a moment in frustration. “I’m not just anybody’s bitch Derek. I’m the emissary-mate of Derek Hale, alpha of the Hale Pack. Every time you pull back from being your complete self, you’re telling me that I can’t handle it, but I can. I promise.”

Derek stares into the eyes of his mate surprised. It takes him a moment, but when he gathers his resolve he’s made his decision. Stiles is his mate, and he has to treat him as such now, a partner, an equal.

Stiles must see the realization in Derek’s eyes, because he relaxes himself where he is skewered by Derek’s full length. “Now fuck me like you mean it... let go... I want all of it...”

And that’s it, the last of Derek’s inhibitions are set lose as he transforms into beta shift and his eyes return to their glorious crimson. He hooks his arms underneath The back of Stiles’ knees and pins him thoroughly to the bed.

He starts with a relentless, merciless thrust that forces Stiles to scream in pleasure. “OHMYYGAWD YES! NOW WE’RE TALKING!” He yells out.

Derek smirks as he decides to continue. His speed and strength are absolutely deafening. Stiles is seeing stars in no time at all.

On one of the more powerful thrusts, Stiles winces in pain slightly. This catches Derek’s attention. He slows down as his right hand makes way for Stiles’ ass to pull away the pain, but before his veins begin to blacken Stiles swings out an open palm to strike Derek in the face.

The sudden slap makes Derek snarl viciously. “I said I can take it Derek! Don’t make me tell you again!” Stiles shouts. Derek growls loudly as he pulls out completely from Stiles. This makes Stiles moan in frustration at the loss. Before he can speak again however, Derek picks him up and tosses him around to lay on his stomach, truly man handling him.

Stiles lands with a small ‘umph,’ but before he can think consciously, Derek is straddling him from behind and pinning him back down to the bed. One of his hands is on Stiles’ back, while the other is on the upper part of his neck, tilting his head to the left and forcing it into the pillow; claws out, not piercing, but definitely scratching for all they’re worth. Like this, Derek re-enters Stiles’ body with determination as a crippling roar erupts from his voice.

Stiles SCREAMS in brutal pleasure! “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT STILES!?” Derek yells out in between slurred fangs, “TO BE BRED LIKE A BITCH IN HEAT!?

“YES!” Stiles yells back in between dark breaths that could very easily be mistaken for hyperventilating. “YES ALPHA! FUCK ME! BREED ME! FORCE YOUR KNOT INTO MY FUCKING SOUL!!!” Stiles’ screams pierce though Derek’s ears as if he were a goddamn banshee himself. Stiles seems to be going in and out of consciousness slightly as he receives the fuck of his life, grateful for all that is good and holy on God’s green earth as Derek punishes his prostate in no other way imaginable.

15 minutes...

20 minutes...

25 minutes pass before Derek’s knot begins to grow. “YES! YES! THAT’S IT!” Stiles yells once more. His pleasured screams turned into pleasured sobbing at some point but neither of them care. “FFFUUUCCCKKK MMMEEE!!!”

Derek’s knot fully locks into Stiles as some sort of earth-shattering noice comes from Derek’s throat... a roar, a snarl, a growl, who fucking knows. Thick, long, powerful shots of werewolf goodness plow straight into Stiles’ prostate, making the pinned down man release for a third time, right into the sheets.

Right before both men black out of consciousness as they reach their climax together, Stiles’ eyes flash their dual sided supernatural.

——

Thirty minutes pass before both men slowly realize who and where they are. Somehow, they have turned side ways to face the left, still connected. Derek has his right arm wrapped around Stiles’ lower neck, gripping his left pectoral as he continuously licks the mating scar. His left hand is desperately clutching the lower part of Stiles’ slender abs, where a bloated reservoir of pups rests within his mate.

“I have to ask Alex how he’s able to walk after something like this.” Stiles says suddenly. Derek chuckles into his sweaty skin.

A sudden, subtle wave of sorrow flows through the mating bond and up to Derek’s nose. “Stiles...” Derek asks hesitantly.

“It’s nothing... just...” Stiles continues. “I’ll never be able to have your children Derek.” Derek, honest to God, whimpers at his mate’s proclamation, but Stiles speaks before he can provide comfort. “I know Alex and Christiano have an incredible family, and they’ve made it work with surrogacy within the packs, so I know we will have a future, something to look forward to... it’s just...”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts, “you are perfect, in every way. You are more than I could ever ask for, and more than I deserve. I will never let go of you.”

Relief washes through the bond and Derek’s wolf is proud to be able to comfort their mate. A moment passes before curiosity begins to bubble within Stiles. “But maybe...” he says. “Maybe I can do something else for you.”

Derek quirks a questioning eyebrow as Stiles looks over to the nightstand where his new phone is resting, where the miniature wolves are suppose to be... ‘hmm, they must have fallen off in the flurry,’ Stiles thinks to himself. He picks up his phone and dials Peter’s number.

The phone rings for quite awhile before Peter finally answers. “Stiles, alpha-mate, I love you, I do, but can we make this quick? I’m currently knot deep in Alex’s glorious mouth while Christiano is knot deep in my very out-of-practice ass.”

Derek rolls his eyes.

“First of all,” Stiles replies, “good for you. Second of all, Alex has to teach me how to do that.” Derek’s knot pules at the possibility of locking into Stiles’ mouth. This causes Stiles to pause as his eyes roll to the back of his head with pleasure. “Third of all,” he says while recomposing, “how difficult would it be to legally change my name to Stiles Hale?” From behind him, Stiles can feel Derek’s gaze of love and surprise.

“Hmmm,” Peter contemplates, “well, it could be done, but it would take some time. I would need to find a judge who would be willing to falsify the date of a marriage certificate to before you became a ‘missing person.’ This way, the information wouldn’t populate in any of the government databases, and the bastards in Beacon Hills couldn’t find you unless they knew exactly where to look, which would be impossible, I assure you.”

Stiles scent floods with hope and excitement.

“Finding such a judge, now that would be the hard part. Off the top of my head, my first guess would be to do a quickie wedding in Vegas and pay a random judge for the forgery, but that could become problematic very quickly...” Peter says. “However... we do have a very psychic emissary at our disposal who owes us a favor for his downright trickery, perhaps he can point us in the right direction."

Suddenly Stiles and Derek can hear a long, low, guttural moan coming from Peter over the phone. “Mhnnnn... yeah, that’s nice.” A silent pause passes before Peter speaks again. “Well, since he is dutifully attempting to nod his head in agreeance right now, I’m going to say we will be able to fulfill your request.”

“Bueno, cuelga el telefono.” A thick, deep, Spaniard accent comands somewhere near the phone.

“Okay Stiles, good talk, hanging up now!” Peter rushes out before the call is ended.

Stiles chuckles as he turns to notice that Derek is looking over him, to the floor beside the bed. “Derek?” He asks.

“Do you think Alex knew that THAT was going to happen?” Derek asks, eyes transfixed on something on the floor.

Stiles turns his head to look... and what he sees... are the three missing miniatures... play fighting with each other... like, actually moving around...

_**  
Alex: “You have both, a space to limitlessly create life, and a space to limitlessly consume life within your very soul.”  
**  
Stiles: “Alex says that I need to be more crafty... We hiked up to a nearby cave to get some clay that can be manipulated easily and baked in an oven, and then we ground up some flowers and berries to make the dye to paint them.”  
**_

“Oh that sneaky bitch...” Stiles says as realization hits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Stiles Stilinski is a fucking brat...
> 
> P.S. By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).


	10. *A Letter From The Author*

Dear Readers,

I am so incredibly pleased to announce that we have made it to the first milestone of our story! The journey that the Hale Pack has been on has been something I have enjoyed writing immensely. The Love and support I have received for my very first published fanfic has been a joy to experience; so, from the bottom of my heart, thank you! Having that said, I wanted to inform you all of a few things:

Firstly, the rest of this fic will be set two years after the Hale Pack 'Mating Ceremony'... This is an important decision that I have made that is the basis of the plot going forward. When we begin chapter 11, the Hale & Flores Packs are still in Colorado, and the McCall pack is still in Beacon Hills (most of them anyway).

Secondly, this is also the part of the story where we start to see some real canon divergence... I do not want you guys to think that everything leading up to Stiles' departure from Beacon Hills, was based on the concrete plot from the TV show. As we all know, in the TV show, the McCall pack goes through a lot of characters and pack members, but my story will be different. There are characters in the TV show that may have left the McCall pack, but in this story, they have stayed in Beacon Hills instead. There will also be characters who left the pack, that I will bring back at some point. Some characters may not even be included at all. If I do not FULLY explain a character's reason for being/not being in the story, you are welcome to assume whatever you wish.

Thirdly, updates to this work will become much less frequent from now on... When I began publishing "A New Life," I already had the first nine chapters completely outlined, and many of those chapters were already written. Now however, I only have the first three and last three chapters outlined for the remainder of our story (I know how we start and how we end, but the shit in between is a work in progress). On top of that, not many of these chapters are fully written. I still have a lot of work to do.

All in all, I wanted to thank you for your continued support and make you aware of some things to expect going forward. I hope and pray that you all are staying safe and living the best life you can!

Peace & Blessings,  
-The Author

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... tell me, who do you hope may, or may not, be in the Packs(s) going forward...


	11. It's Your Father, Stiles; He's In Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

**Two Years After The Purification Ritual**

Stiles walks over to the tatami mat behind the main cabin and is surprised to find that Alex is not there. He looks over the lakeside to see if he if elsewhere, but all he can see is the sunrise beyond the mountains. 'For these entire two years, Alex has never been late to training before.’ Stiles thinks to himself. Surly, nothing is wrong. Stiles closes his eyes and focuses calmly on his inner self, awakening his spark. The first thing he feels in his ‘sixth’ sense are the pack bonds. Derek is in his wolf form, moving quickly, patrolling around section five. Cora is also patrolling, somewhere around the outer border. Lastly, Peter is in the Hale cabin, still asleep.

Diving deeper into his spark, Stiles reaches out to his allies in the Flores Pack. Christiano is far off, presumably teaching his new recruits about the pack and their responsibilities in C.M.T.S.5. Since the Hale Pack has been helping, is has been easy for Christiano and Alex to locate and rescue trustworthy omegas who just need a family; some of them are survivors, much like the Hales, others are human varieties that have found purpose under Alex’s guidance. Either way, the Flores Pack are well and strong, out and about the territory. The children are safe and sound as well, most likely at school. Alex on the other hand… he is somewhere… Stiles can feel his life force, it is solid and healthy, but the signature is cloaked, hidden from view. 

…

‘The study!’ Stiles realizes. The study is warded differently than the rest of the estate. Stiles knows this. If Alex is in his study, it would make sense as to why Stiles cannot find him.

As Stiles makes his way towards the study, a sudden feeling of dread washes over him. Alex is always incredibly courteous; he will always tell Stiles if he has other matters to attend to before rescheduling their training. The only time Stiles has ever seen Alex lose sense in his surroundings or obligations is when unsettling information appears. As he enters the main cabin of the estate, Stiles can smell the slight edge of bitter citrus and burnt chamomile. A smell he has come to associate with Alex’s divination rituals.

As he enters the study, his suspicions are confirmed; Alex sits alone with a sorrowful look on his face.

There is a beat of silence for just a moment.

“It’s your father, Stiles; he’s in danger.” Alex speaks softly.

——

As soon as Stiles has finished his mournful conversation with Alex, he arrives at the Hale cabin to see all three other pack members waiting for him. They stand warily in the living area with concerned expressions.

“We felt your worry through the bonds.” Derek speaks quickly. “What happened?”

“My dad is in trouble…” Stiles says sullenly. His eyes cascade to the floor. A mix of emotions take over as the pack tries to determine how they should feel.

“What is the nature of this trouble; do you know?” Peter asks.

“It’s hard to say exactly,” Stiles replies. “Alex received the information just last night, but he has been unable to divine many of the details. Now that my power has grown, he believes that my connection to the Nemeton is acting as a barrier to keep him from learning too much.” Derek’s brow furrows at receiving the news. He knows that Stiles’ void will forever be connected to the Nemeton, no matter how far away, but the fact that Alex cannot even see through it is disconcerting to say the least. “What he does know, is that my father doesn’t have the means to protect himself from whatever is after him. He is tired and losing vigilance, no doubt exhausted from his continuous search for me; and the McCall pack is unstable, many of its members are distant from one another, some going off to school, some downright not happy with the state of things in Beacon Hills.”

Now Cora is the one to speak, “I don’t know how to say this softly, so I’ll just put it out there. Do you think we should care?” Derek glares at his second-in-command. Yes, they were all thinking the question, but Cora has never been one for subtlety.

Stiles sighs. “I don’t know,” he replies. “Part of me knows that he has his life, and I have mine now, but another part of me wonders what he actually has in his life.” At this, Derek looks at his mate fondly. It is no secret that Stiles had his reasons to leave Beacon Hills behind, but it is also no secret that he has grown since then. Their relationship has helped them both. Stiles has been able to process all of the thoughts and emotions that clouded his judgement from before, and Derek is proud to know that his mate is able to look past those experiences to see the truth of the matter.

“I have a family now,” Stiles continues. “I have you guys; and together, we are stronger. We aren’t perfect, but what we do, we do together. We make mistakes. We grow. We learn. We support each other. We’re a pack… but my dad…” Now the pack understands, they begin to allow resolve to flow through the bond. “What does he have; who does he have? A pack of twenty-year olds who still don’t know what the hell they’re doing? Who helps him grow from the mistakes he makes? How does he learn? What support does he really have? I was all he had left; there is no telling how high his cholesterol is right now!”

The pack chuckle but understand Stiles’ train of thought. “Then we go back.” Derek states with finality.

Stiles looks at his mate in hesitation. “Are you sure? Honestly, I don’t know what to do here. I’m not a Stilinski anymore. I’ve been gone for so long I don’t know how I would just show up after all this time…”

“We,” Derek motions a circle around the pack, “show up together.” At this, Peter and Cora nod in agreeance, and Stiles starts to tear up. “Beacon Hills is all of our homeland. We still own the preserve. It belongs to us.” Derek takes a moment to gather himself before continuing, “I know it may be difficult, but he is still your father. If I had a chance to make things right with my family, ask for forgiveness for the things that I’ve done, I would do it, because I know you would want me to.”

A single tear rolls down Stiles’ cheek as he stares lovingly into the eyes of his mate. “okay…” he finally says. “Together.”

——

In the midst of packing a few essentials for the road, Stiles starts packing literally everything except for the kitchen sink. Derek walks into their shared bedroom and embraces his mate in comfort. “Stiles, please try to relax. I know you’re nervous, but everything will be okay; I promise. When Alex told me you were in danger, I felt the same worry you feel now, but look how everything turned out.” Derek explains. “We’re going to be okay. Whatever trouble is waiting for us in Beacon Hills, we’ll face it together, as a pack.”

Stiles sighs. “I know, I know.” He allows the embrace of his mate and the love he feels through his spark to help him gather his composure. “I knew this day would come. I knew something would happen, somewhere, to someone. I just hoped it wouldn’t be my dad. Truthfully, after my mother passed, he wasn’t the same. I can only imagine what kind of man he’s become now… Even after everything that happened, I never resented him… not once.”

Derek leans back a bit to look at his mate and speaks, “I know babe, I can feel it.” Derek now runs a hand over the mating scar left on Stiles’ neck. Most of the time, when a werewolf mates with a human, the bond created isn’t nearly as strong as if two werewolves were to mate with one another, but Stiles’ spark has proven to elevate a great many things in the past two years. It’s a wonder that Stiles can control it all. Derek thinks to thank Alex for all he has done before they leave.

“So ummm, that reminds me…” Stiles says, looking up to Derek with doe eyes and a naughty smirk on his lips. Derek raises a questioning brow at his mate. “Speaking of bonds, new and old, I may or may not have been researching a few things with Alex here and there. Your alpha spark, as it may, still has a few tethers that I’ve been thinking we could reach out to. It would be nice to have some back up you know, perhaps help us find some common ground in Beacon Hills…”

Derek is stricken with a small wave longing and grief as Stiles’ words register their implication. Derek doesn’t have very many untethered bonds with anybody who is still alive. He knows that Stiles would never do anything without first consulting his alpha, his mate, but Derek also knows that once Stiles has set his mind to something, it’s pretty much impossible to sway his decision. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Stiles’ smirk turn to a full on grin, and the bond he shares with Derek vibrates with excitement and mischievousness. “Not much, just a few handwritten letters from the mysterious new Hale Pack emissary. Maybe a vague invitation or two, something to help us keep people on their toes before we arrive, and maybe something to rekindle a few old friendships.”

Derek sighs. ‘Here we go, it’s already begun.’ He thinks to himself.

—— 

Once the Hale Pack is packed and ready to depart, they meet with Christiano and Alex in front of the estate. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t provide much more than a bad omen…” Alex says shyly, Christiano holding him reassuringly from behind.

Derek and Stiles both shake their head in rebuttal, and Stiles is inevitably the one to speak. “Please don’t be sorry. Without you, there is no telling what would have happened to any of us in the past few years. You gave us a home, and a family. We owe you our lives. The Hale Pack will always honor our alliance with the Flores Pack.”

“And the Flores Pack will always honor our alliance with the Hale Pack.” Christiano responds.

“Yes, of course,” Alex adds. “Please know that you will always have a home here. And if you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”

Hugs are exchanged and small tears are shed. Lastly, Peter approaches the Flores couple before parting. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure,” he says as he hugs the two simultaneously.

Alex leans into his ear to whisper sweetly, “it’s been many pleasures.” The trio can hear somebody say ‘gross’ behind them all, probably Cora.

“I will be very disappointed if you don’t come back to visit us from time to time,” Christiano warns.

Peter winks seductively, “of course Alpha Flores.”

As thus, the Hale Pack sets off for Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKay guys here we go... what's waiting for the Pack In Beacon Hills...


	12. What Are You Doing Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

**The Same Day That The Hale Pack Departs From Colorado**

Dr. Alan Deaton is many things. Above all, he is patient. For example, he has waited two long years for the pack to find Stiles. Unfortunate as it is, every single effort to find the missing spark has ended terribly.

Alpha Scott McCall, being the absolute idiot that he is, must have severed the pack bond connecting him to Stiles on that fateful night, because Deaton is now unable to locate the young spark by using the bond for a scrying ritual. Alpha McCall, again being the absolute idiot that he is, is also the reason Deaton’s original plan failed so miserably.

You see, two years ago, Alpha McCall was supposed to attempt to save his best friend from certain death. At which time, Theo Raeken was going to appear beside Alpha McCall in the nick of time to ‘assist...’ and at the most opportune moment, while Scott was distracted by Donovan Donati, Theo was going to shove his claw through Alpha McCall’s chest, and rip his heart out; as long as Stiles was watching of course, that is very important.

Stiles’ witness of said death is the only event that truly mattered. Theo is not a werewolf, so killing an alpha would not result in the passing of an alpha spark. It is only because Stiles possesses a very human spark within him, that Theo could become an alpha. If Stiles were to witness Theo kill Alpha McCall, then the spark inside of the young human would ignite once more under extreme grief, and the sudden need to survive. This, along with Stiles’ belief that Theo is a werewolf, would force the Spark to allow the transfer of ‘lifeforce.’

This alpha spark, in particular, is also very important. It is the alpha spark that was born of the Nemeton’s power; it is connected to the Nemeton indefinitely. The old Hale spark has been blessed by the Nemeton, of course, but the McCall spark came from the telluric currents as they are now. It took Deaton several years to find the infamous ritual for creating alphas, and several years more to adjust it accordingly.

Since Theo is still technically a human, He would be able to use the McCall spark’s natural connection to the Nemeton as a source of magic. If people like Alpha McCall did not have an inner wolf, who would refuse the use of magic to protect their host, then Theo would be unnecessary. However, Theo IS necessary; as a chimera, he does not have an inner wolf, and therefore can perform the magic that Deaton needs.

It is all quite frustrating. If things would have gone according to plan two years ago, Theo would have become the most powerful Alpha to currently exist, and Deaton, being his emissary, would have accesses to the full power of the Nemeton.

Step One: Preform an old, lost ritual to force the Nemeton into giving an idiotic, replaceable werewolf an alpha spark.

Step Two: Convince Stiles that Theo Raeken is a werewolf.

Step Three: Allow Stiles to watch Theo Raeken kill the replaceable werewolf.

Step Four: Allow Stiles’ spark to believe that, because Theo Reaken is a werewolf, then Theo would acquire the alpha spark.

Step Five: Allow Stiles’ spark to force the transfer of lifeforce that is the alpha spark.

That is how that fateful night was SUPPOSED to go; but it did not. Instead, Theo followed Alpha McCall around secretly, watching as he stuck his dick inside of some pretty Asian thing that Deaton couldn’t care less about. Alpha McCall completely ignored all phone calls and text messages for the fleeting pleasure… while Stiles may or may not have been killing Donovan Donati, nobody knows, the body was never found.

All in all, this is why Deaton finds himself sitting in his current position, the dining table of the Stilinski home, waiting for Sheriff Noah Stilinski to arrive from work.

You see, because time is of the essence, Deaton must now take matters into his own hands. He has covered himself in a scent blocker, so that no wolf, or coyote, will be able to detect his presence was ever here. He has also prepared a potent toxin that will not only erase the Sheriff’s memories of today’s events, but it will also help Sheriff Stilinski remain unconscious. A state he must retain until Stiles returns home.

Thankfully, Dr. Alan Deaton is a patient man. He has been sitting in the Stilinski household for several hours. His spirit rises as he hears the subtle *click*click* of a key turning in the front door.

“Deaton, what are you doing here?” Sheriff Stilinski asks as he enters the kitchen.

——

**The Following Morning**

The Drive from Colorado to Beacon Hills is a long, 16-hour drive. When the Camaro makes its way past the “Welcome to Beacon Hills” sign, it’s sunrise. The mates are riding in the Camaro while Peter and Cora are close behind in the rental car. Stiles had originally wanted to fly, but there were no available flights to California on such short notice.

Stiles’ phone rings and he quickly answers. “Peter,” he says.

“Malia just texted me,” Peter responds. “She said that the Sheriff didn’t show up for work this morning and nobody can find him. His cruiser is at the house, but he is nowhere to be found.” Stiles takes a sharp breath. “She asked if I could come into town and help her find him. She doesn’t trust the McCall pack to find him before it’s too late… before he’s another ‘Missing Person…’”

“Fuck…” Stiles says. “We’re too late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, but important...
> 
> The next few chapters are from members of the McCall pack, and I can not wait!


	13. Hello Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

**2 Days Later**

Trees sway from side to side along the path of the summer breeze. Pollen and honeysuckle carry over the landscape as birds sing their songs of joy. Malia stands behind the legendary shell of the Hale house; the preserve has all but taken over the location now. Any indication of civilization is long gone. All that remains, is the sweet, unbridled life of the wilderness.

Malia has always felt much more alive in the preserve. From time to time, she wishes that she could remember how she ever performed a full shift. Living in the wilderness as a coyote was much easier, much more beautiful. She will always be grateful for the moment that Scott found her and brought her back to reality, but lately, the call to the wild has been too strong. Without Stiles around, reminding her of her worth as a human, Malia has reverted to her old ways. She has lost a lot of composure, and her instincts tend to take over. It wasn’t until Stiles was gone that she even realized he was her anchor. When she had decided to break up with him all that time ago, it was because he was human and fragile. Little did Malia know, his humanity is what gave her a new purpose: to protect those who she loves.

If it weren’t for her friendship with Lydia, Malia would have undoubtedly left the pack by now and become a feral omega. Lydia had become her sister-in-arms shortly after Stiles left. The two young women grieved together and made a vow to find their missing packmate. Lydia reminded Malia so much of Stiles. Human, intelligent, head-strong; their friendship had proven to be just what Malia needed. 

Malia was saddened when Lydia had told her that she was going to university in New York, but that sadness was quickly resolved when Lydia told her why. She explained that she was sure that the real Stiles had settled in New York. She said that Derek owns an apartment in New York, and if Stiles had nowhere left to go, he would find Derek. She was sure of it. If anybody could find Stiles, it would be Lydia. Lydia is smart, the smartest of the pack. She had told Malia her plans in secret, knowing that the rest of the pack would only get in her way. 

She asked Malia to go with her, but Malia argued that life in the big city was dangerous for a werecreature who cannot maintain control. It would be a hindrance for Malia to join Lydia in New York, so instead she decided to stay in beacon Hills, protecting the territory and waiting for a clue to Stiles’ whereabouts. It was also the best place for Malia to be in order to keep in contact with Peter.

Her biological father is mysterious, and morally questionable to say the least, but they are learning about each other at a slow pace. Malia doesn’t see him very often, but he does own a town home in Beacon Hills that he visits from time to time. When Malia spoke to Peter about Lydia’s theory, Peter had furrowed his brow in something that looked like sympathy. “I’m sorry my dear, but when Derek left Beacon Hills with Cora, they headed to South America,” is what he had told her. “It is a very keen observation of Lydia to think that Stiles would search for Derek in New York, and I pray that one day she does indeed find him.”

It’s been two years now. Lydia is still searching New York as well as attending school, but then the Sheriff went missing. Scott had contacted Lydia to explain the recent situation, so she got on a flight back to Beacon Hills to join the search. Thankfully, it is the middle of summer and Lydia is out of class for a few months. 

That is why Malia is currently in the Preserve, searching for any signs of Noah. Her instincts had eventually led her to the Hale house, but alas, she does not see anything out of the ordinary.

Right before Malia is going to turn elsewhere in her search, a new scent hits her nose. Her primal instincts flare at the strange aroma. It smells like… earth. Some sort of dirt maybe(?), but its coaxed in sweet things… flowers… berries… something of nature but not grown here in the preserve. This earth is different. It’s lighter, softer. It’s not stone, but it’s not soil either. Malia is at a loss for words. She tries to zero in on the smell but it’s moving too quickly. She begins to focus instead on her hearing. There are no heartbeats nearby, human or animal, but the scent is definitely moving around. ‘That’s strange,’ Malia thinks to herself. She catches a leaf rustle and a small twig snap off into the distance and instantly whips her head to the location of the sound. 

There is a predatory growl coming from a bush far away before some sort of creature snaps backwards and sprints off, away from Malia. Instincts take over as Malia transforms into beta shift and gives chase. She still doesn’t hear a heartbeat, but she can hear the footfalls of something quick. It isn’t too long before Malia can see paw-prints on the ground below. Not breaking her chase, Malia continues to follow the sounds, and the trail, of her prey. More and more, the smell of strange earth builds and builds.

Malia stops abruptly when the trail disappears into a river nearby. She curses under her breath for losing her prey. She tries to listen for any signs of which direction the creature may have gone. She jogs down the side of the river a bit but finds nothing. Just then, a few rocks tumble from the other side of the water. Malia snaps her head around and is frozen is shock.

There, on the other side of the river, stands a fully grown, black wolf with hazel eyes, staring straight at her. “Derek… “ she whispers, still surprised. The wolf doesn’t move. It doesn’t even breathe. Not only is there no heartbeat within the creature, but the sounds of lungs expanding and releasing are also missing. ‘But didn’t he just growl a bit ago?’ Malia thinks to herself. She continues to stare, confused. The wolf doesn’t move either. Just then, two more wolves appear from the trees to meet the other. One of them is slightly larger. It is also a black wolf, but it has accents of white and silver in its fur and has very human, blue eyes. The last wolf is slightly smaller in size with a full body of dark brown fur and matching brown eyes. 

Malia and the pack of wolves continue to stare each other down. They all smell exactly the same, like soft earth coaxed in something sweet; no heartbeats or lungs can be heard.

Something catches the wolves’ attention behind them, although Malia can’t hear anything. Suddenly, the three wolves across the river sprint off further into the preserve. Malia is left on the riverbed, completely lost in her own mind.

The phone in her back pocket vibrates; It’s a message from Scott.

Scott: Emergency pack meeting in one hour. Come to the house. Deaton got a letter from the Hale Pack and he wants us all here to explain it.

“Derek…” Malia whispers into the preserve once more.

——

Malia makes her way to the McCall house on foot. When she approaches the front door, she can hear the heartbeats of her pack and the smell of curiosity mixed with worry. Knowing that everybody is already inside and would have detected her arrival, she opens the door and steps inside. Everybody is convened in the living room. 

Scott stands tall in front of the fireplace, commanding the attention of the room. Liam stands to the right of his alpha, as he should as the second-in-command. Theo stands on the opposite side of Scott, as his left hand. Dr. Deaton, Kira, and Melissa are all sitting on the couch. Deaton, as the pack emissary, is holding a manila envelope that is the presumed Hale Pack letter. Kira and Melissa sit on either side of him, their sweet yet confident auras as the alpha-mate and alpha-mother are settling everybody’s underlined concerns. Lydia is sitting in one of the chairs across the coffee table and Danny his sitting calmly on the arm rest of said chair: their position in the living room takes the stance of affiliates rather than pack members, even though they are both considered betas within the hierarchy. 

“Thank you for coming on short notice Malia,” Scott says. “Please, have a seat and we’ll begin.” Scott’s voice is soft and confident. His puppy dog eyes and heartwarming smile are in full effect. Theo rolls his eyes at the genuine treatment his alpha is showing another member of the pack. Malia joins Lydia and Danny across the coffee table, taking another chair. “Deaton?” Scott says as an inclination to proceed.

“Yes,” Deaton responds. “It would appear as though the Hale Pack has returned to Beacon Hills.” Everybody is shocked by the sudden news; Lydia takes note that Malia is less shocked than everybody else. “This handwritten letter was on my desk this morning when I arrived at work. There is no postage on it, and it does not have a return address. What strikes me as the most curious however, is not its mysterious appearance, or its contents.” Deaton takes a moment to compose himself before relaying the rest of the information. Lydia’s irritation grows. It is no secret that Deaton knows how to remain physically natural and ambiguous, as well as extremely vague and misleading; it is also no secret that Lydia has an extraordinarily strong dislike of the emissary. “What strikes me as the most curious, is the handwriting of the letter itself. I cannot say for certain, but I believe this is the handwriting of one Stiles Stilinski.”

A single, sharp breath can be heard from every member of the pack. Scott is overcome with a wave of longing and grief that permeates throughout the house; all werecreatures let lose a small whine at the sudden onslaught to their noses in response. The room is now eerily silent. Lydia watches Deaton critically. Deaton allows for a moment of respite before clearing his throat to continue. “Allow me to read the contents to you all:

Dear McCall Pack,

I am pleased to announce that Alpha Derek Hale, and all members of the prestigious Hale Pack, have returned to Beacon Hills. As the current emissary of said prestigiousness, it is customary for me to announce our arrival. We have urgent tasks here that needs be completed.

Seeing as though Alpha Derek Hale legally owns both the preserve, and a few select neighboring properties outside of Beacon Hills city limits, I am certain that the McCall Pack will have no quarries with our presence in the territory.

As a courtesy however, I hereby invite you to meet with us formally. We would absolutely adore if you could come to the remains of the once great Hale Manor tomorrow evening before sundown.

It will certainly be an event that you do not want to miss.

Sincerely,

-Mischief”

There is a long pause in the room before Melissa mutters under her breath, “Mischief… no… no, it can’t be…”

“Mom?” Scott questions.

Melissa looks up to survey her son. “When you and Stiles were young, Claudia and I would spend a lot of time together as the two of you played around. I tried many times to say Stiles’ real name back then, but I could never get it right. It’s a polish monstrosity that belonged to his great grandfather. After a while, Claudia finally told me to just call him Mischief; it was her personal nickname for him. It wasn’t until Claudia passed away that he wanted to be called Stiles.”

Theo doesn’t even hide the grin that makes its way to his face. “So the murderer is finally ready to show his face,” he says.

“Can it, limp dick,” Lydia retorts. “one more word out of you and I’ll scream the lies right out of your mouth.” Theo snaps his head towards Lydia, who is glaring him down with the ferocity of an actual wolf. He flashes his beta yellow eyes at her in challange, but she remains still. The tension in the room can be cut with a knife. Theo stands his ground, but in trepidation.

“Guys, please,” Scott begs, but doesn’t flash his own eyes. Theo and Lydia continue their stare-down until Scott finally speaks again. “Can we save the death match until we figure out what is going on… please?” As per usual, Scott is infuriatingly genuine and remorseful. The wound of possibly finding Stiles again has been reopened and scarred over countless times. He is hurting; everybody can tell. 

After the first few months of denial and anger, Scott quickly moved on to the bargaining stage of grief. It took him until that time to realize that Stiles had done to him, what Erica, Boyd, and Isaac had done to Derek… ran away. Scott had left Stiles vulnerable and defenseless in a time of need. He vowed to become a better alpha for his pack so that what happened to Stiles, wouldn’t happen to anybody else. He didn’t want any of his betas turning towards murder because he had failed them. Over time, Kira’s kind heart had proven to become the voice of reason in Stiles’ place; Theo, on the other hand, had become the voice of vengeance and caution, ironically, also in Stiles’ place. It was clear that Scott would have a difficult time taking both of their consultations into consideration, but Lydia had always stepped in, silencing Theo when he spoke too abruptly. She, out of the entire pack, was the only one that Theo seemed to fear. Her intelligence made Theo scared… for good reason.

“Could it really be him?” Danny asked. Danny had always been able to resolve the tension in the room. Between he and Kira, they had become the glue that held the pack together.

“Hmm,” Deaton responds, holding his chin in thought. “It is quite possible, but it is difficult to believe. As many of you know, Sheriff Stilinski went missing a few days ago.” At this, Lydia rolls her eyes, of course they know, that is why she is here in Beacon Hills after all, instead of New York. “But what many of you do not know, is that the day after the sheriff went missing, my wards on the northeastern border of the territory had a fluctuation in vigilance.”

“What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” Lydia asks, clearly not in the mood for Deaton’s antics.

“What it means, Ms. Martin,” Deaton responds credulously, “is that my wards had been shut down for a moment. During which time, any number of supernatural creatures could have come into, or left, the territory without detection.”

“And you waited until now to share that information?!” Lydia all but shouts. “You don’t think that such an event would have been relevant to our current investigation?! We have been searching for Noah all this time, here in Beacon Hills, when it’s likely that somebody could have taken him out of town while the wards where down?!” By the end of her reprimanding, Lydia is fuming at the mouth.

“Please, Ms. Martin,” Deaton says calmly. “I assure you that I made my way into the preserve and immediately reactivated the wards in a timely manner. Additionally, I took Theo with me for protection. If anybody were to try and take Sheriff Stilinski out of town during that time, we would have noticed it.”

Lydia whips her head to glare at Theo. “So you knew about this too, and chose not to inform us. Why am I not surprised?” Theo responds by flashing his eyes at the banshee.

“Again, please, Ms. Martin,” Deaton interrupts. “The reason I told you this was to indicate that it is quite possible that the Hale pack arrived in Beacon Hills during which time I was reactivating the wards. If this emissary of theirs was able to deactivate my wards, then they would have known how to slip in without detection. This, is the most probable turn of past events.”

Lydia now provides Deaton with the same glare she normally saves for Theo. “So now you’re saying that there are indeed individuals who could slip in and out of the territory without the notice of either you or Theo, how contradicting of you.” Deaton then resigns into silence, keeping his face as neutral and unbothered as possible. “Still, your lengthy distraction does not answer Danny’s question: could this emissary really be Stiles.” All eyes look a Deaton now for response to Lydia’s proclamation.

“That is because your interruption prevented me from finishing my explanation,” Deaton continues. “When Stiles was with us, once upon a time, he did in fact display the makings of a meaningful emissary, unfortunately however, he left us far to soon for me to make an accurate depiction of his true nature. At the state he was in when he left Beacon Hills, it is difficult for me to believe he has overcome the burdens he carried, enough to support an entity such as the Hale pack. From experience, I can tell you that being the emissary to a pack that holds so much value and history in the supernatural world is quite a daunting task.”

“I fully believe that Stiles could succeed where you once failed,” Lydia says without hesitation. “His loyalty and diligence to the people he cares about is beyond us all. He would never allow his pack to burn to the ground.” To all others, Deaton seems unbothered by Lydia’s insult, but to Lydia’s meticulous observation skills, the slight press of Deaton’s lips, and the ever-so-faint twitch of his left eyelid says otherwise.

Before Lydia becomes absolutely furious, she stands quickly to make her way out. “Lydia, where are you going…” Scott says pathetically. “We still need to discuss what we’re going to do about the letter.”

“You can discuss the Hales all you want,” Lydia quickly responds, resentment in her tone. “I am going to take this new information and go to the station. The search for the Sheriff is still my top priority and I will not waste precious time while either of the Stilinkis could actually be close by. Danny, I could use your help, Malia, you too.” Swiftly, Lydia opens the front door and makes way to her car.

Danny and Malia stare at each other for a moment before turning to Scott. His face isn’t full of anger or irritation, all that’s there is sorrow and pity. Danny is the one to finally speak, “you guys should text us when you come up with a plan of action. In the meantime, we’ll go help Lydia cool off. I’m sure she’s just tense at the idea of seeing Stiles again…”

Kira is the one to stand and hug Danny and Malia. “Of course, I can tell she’s upset, You guys should go with her.” She then turns to look at her mate, “Scott?”

Scott nods in resolve, “yeah, I’ll let you guys know what we decide.”

——

As soon as Malia enters the car with Danny, she can see the ever-calculating look of Lydia’s face. Lydia quickly drives off in silence, clearly waiting to be out of earshot of the rest of the pack. “Malia, why didn’t you look shocked to hear that Derek and Cora are in town; did Peter know about this?”

Of course, Lydia would notice. “No, I haven’t heard from Peter much. When I texted him a few days ago he told me that he would call me as soon as he could help. He hasn’t called yet, but… I think I saw Derek in the preserve right before Scott asked me to come to the house.”

Lydia is quick to reply, “What do you mean you ‘think’ you saw him?”

“I’m not sure it was him,” Malia responds. “He was in wolf form, but he didn’t smell like himself and I couldn’t hear his heartbeat. And then there were two more wolves, another black one and a smaller brown one.”

Malia had expected Lydia to be shocked by the information, but she is as stoic as ever, dutifully considering all the possibilities. Danny is the one to finally speak, “a whole pack of wolves, like, actual wolves?”

“Yes, a whole pack of them, but they didn’t have heartbeats and they all smelled exactly the same.” Malia tries to explain herself as well as Lydia could.

“Did they attack you?” Lydia questions.

Malia’s brow furrows in thought. “No, I… it was kind of weird actually. The first wolf led me to a river in the preserve and then reappeared of the other side a few yards down. That’s when the other two showed up. I wanted to follow them, but that’s when I got the message from Scott.”

Lydia’s expression resolves into understanding. “So they wanted you to wash away your scent in the river so that nobody else would come after you. Maybe they did want you to follow them.”

Malia is glad Lydia is able to rationalize what happened, but Danny is the one to speak next. “Do you think it could have been a trap? I mean, there are no actual wolves in California; they could have been anything.”

“No, if they wanted to attack Malia, they would have done it when they had the element of surprise.” Lydia calmly states. “But I think you should try to find them again. It’s the only lead we have so far. Can you track them down?” Malia nods. “Good, I’m going to see Jordan and ask him if there is any new information that he can share. With what we know now, there might be clues we didn’t see at first. Danny, can you check the traffic cameras to see if Stiles, Derek, or Cora have shown their face in town?”

Danny nods enthusiastically, “yeah, my algorithms are still active for Stiles. I would know if he showed up in town, but Derek and Cora I wouldn’t know. I can take a look and update my computer with the new searches… but what about the pack?”

“Don’t worry about them right now,” Lydia quickly responds. “It’s clear that Deaton isn’t willing to help us in any way, and trying to reach an understand with anybody else would only waste time and stir the pot. We should find out what we can for now, and if we learn anything then we let them know.”

Both Malia and Danny nod in agreeance.

“Text me first if either of you find anything,” Lydia says with finality.

——

After Lydia drops Danny off at his house, she takes Malia to a spot in the preserve that isn’t too far off route of the station. Malia gets out of the car and heads back to the old Hale house.

It takes a few minutes, but as soon as she approaches, she picks up the scent of soft earth and sweet things, but this time, she can hear a heartbeat. She makes her way to the backyard of the remains and for the second time today, is shocked frozen.

There, in the backyard, are the three wolves, play fighting around, acting like little puppies. Standing close by, is Peter.

“Hello dear, I've been informed that you have already met the pups.” Peter chuckles. “You should see the first batch; they are quite adorable.”

Malia stares at Peter incredulously. “Come,” he says. “We should go someplace more private. There are a great many things that I have had to keep hidden from you that I must now apologize for. Pray, forgive me daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG OMG OMG! THE DRAMA!


	14. It Was Always You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're ready for smut.....

As soon as Lydia drops Danny off at his house, the young man gets to work. Thankfully, his parents aren’t home, so he’ll be able to work freely without trying to hide anything from them. Being a human, it has been much easier to keep his parents out of the supernatural world. Since attending university at MIT for computer science, Danny has been able to assist the pack with information gathering wherever he may be. Being back home from Massachusetts, Danny has found a renewed energy to find the missing Stilinskis.

Although Danny had always found Stiles charming, in an energized, spastic type of way, it wasn’t until he went missing two years ago that Danny was invited into the pack by Lydia. She needed somebody to bounce ideas off of and help her with research. As an individual who both, had briefly dated Alpha Ethan Steiner, and is also good with computers, Lydia found Danny to be the best choice.

Danny couldn’t say he was surprised; after his best friend and unrequited love, Jackson Whittemore, had left for London, Danny had been a bit of a lost soul himself. Lydia had brought him into the pack, not only to help find Stiles, but also to give him a bit of a purpose again. He was grateful for her; she is a force to be reckoned with. So much so, that it seems as though everybody in the pack fears Lydia; she is not a wolf, therefore can’t be controlled, but she is a fore-teller of death, which makes her invaluable in the supernatural world. Danny is happy to be on her good side, even it if is initially because he’s slightly more intelligent than the rest of the pack, and can help her find people electronically.

That is why he is here, now, sitting at his computer, updating his search for Derek and Cora within Beacon Hills. When Danny uploads a picture of Derek Hale to his computer that he received from Lydia, he gets the sudden speculation that he’s seen the mysterious man somewhere before, but he can’t quite remember.

An hour or two goes by before Danny’s home security system alerts him that somebody is approaching the front door. Danny quickly checks the cameras for the house and is filled with shock and excitement to see his guest on screen. He sprints off for the front door; when he opens it, Jackson Whittemore is barely making his way up the steps of the porch.

Jackson stands shyly on the porch as Danny stares blindingly at him from the door. “Hey Danny,” Jackson says. “It’s… umm, good to see you again.”

Danny doesn’t speak; instead, he rushes up to Jackson to embrace the man in a longing hug. At first, Jackson is a bit startled, but he quickly resolves into the warmth and scent of the beautiful man within his space. Jackson has his nose pressed to the crook of Danny’s neck, right at his pulse point; the reptilian wolf within him settles into contentment for the first time since he’s been a werecreature.

MATE! MATE! MATE!

——

Jackson sits at the dinning table in the Mahealani house as Danny makes them both a cup of tea. “You know,” Danny says, “I’m glad to see you again, but I must admit, I’m kind of surprised. Lydia told me you had quite a rough time here before your parents spirited you away to London. I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

Jackson can smell the remnants of sorrow coming off Danny and instantly feels shame. Danny was Jackson’s everything; the thing he regrets the most, out of everything, was leaving his best friend behind.

It is no secret to the world that Jackson Whittemore is adopted. The tragedy of his parents death by car accident is a story that the entire town knows. Jackson is known as the miracle child that was born via c-section during his mother’s final moments. It is said that she held on just long enough to see her son alive and healthy. She slipped from life with a grateful smile on her face. Jackson however, never saw his life as a miracle.

The pain and heartache of being an orphaned child turned Jackson into an asshole. That was of course, until he met Danny. Danny was the first person to ever treat Jackson like an actual person. He never regarded Jackson with pity, superiority, or indifference. This confused Jackson at first, so he would lash out. Danny however, never took Jackson’s trouble personally. Yes, he comforted Jackson when he was sad, but he also reprimanded him when he was being a dick (something that not even Jackson’s adoptive parents would do). To Danny, Jackson was just another person, not the miracle child of Beacon Hills.

This quickly led Jackson to his first real friendship. To the rest of the world, he was Jackson Whittemore, douchebag extraordinaire, but to Danny, he was just Jackson, a friend. He may well have been the only friend that Jackson has ever had. Leaving Danny behind proved to be something that Jackson never forgave himself for; so to hear Danny say that he had given up hope that he would ever come back to Beacon Hills hurts something fierce…

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever come back either,” Jackson says. “If it wasn’t for the letter from the Hale Pack, I wouldn’t have ever considered it.” Danny pauses in his tracks at the mention of a letter from the Hale Pack, but quickly resumes making the tea. “Ethan was the one who convinced me to come back. He said I needed to come see you. He said it was the right thing to do.”

At the mention of Ethan, Danny finally speaks up, “wait… Ethan, as in my ex, Ethan?”

“Yeah… umm…” Jackson responds shyly. “Well, you know, in London, people are a lot more accepting… and like… they’re a lot more experimental over there too. When I ended up in London, I didn’t want to have anything to do with my old self. I wanted to start over, fresh. So, I started… umm… experimenting.” At this point, Danny presents Jackson with his tea: earl gray with two spoonful’s of honey and a splash of milk. Jackson looks up at Danny with a blush; he still remembers Jackson’s favorite drink, after all this time.

Danny is looking at Jackson quizzically, not judgmentally, but quizzically, waiting for Jackson to continue. "That’s how I met Ethan. We were at this… umm… brothel. It’s a supernatural place outside of London. When he told me he had came from Beacon Hills, we just kind of connected. He was an alpha who needed a beta, and I was a beta who needed an alpha.” Jackson takes a sip of his tea and sighs contently.

Danny smiles at him warmly from where he is now sitting at the table. “So what then, you were in his pack?’ Danny asks.

“Yeah,” Jackson answers. “But you can’t really call it a pack. It was just the two of us. He never wanted more betas. He didn’t trust himself. He thought that if he had more betas, more power, he would end up killing his pack again, like he did when he joined the Alpha Pack.”

“But _you_ trusted him?” Danny questions.

“I was desperate.” Jackson states easily. “We both were. I was hurting from everything that happened here. I mean, I died, like, twice, and I killed a lot of people. I needed an alpha, somebody to keep me from going feral. Then of course he was hurting too. His brother had just died, he was alone, and he had killed a lot of people too. He needed a beta, somebody to keep him from going feral. We were kind of in the same boat.”

Jackson can feel the water in his eyes starting to emerge. He can also smell the sorrow coming off of Danny; it was clearly a shock to hear exactly how his best friend and ex-boyfriend were steadily going mad. Trying to remain in composure, Jackson stands up and walks over to the window in the kitchen. “We were never really friends, not really. He was just a good fuck that kept my mind off of things. It was easy to give in to him, to us. It was just a distraction in the end… and then I got the letter.”

Jackson then pulls out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and sets it on the counter. “Derek is the one who bit me, and I was a fool to reject him as my alpha. If I hadn’t, maybe I wouldn’t have turned into the kamina; maybe I wouldn’t have killed all of those people; maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave… so when I got the letter, I thought it could be a sign. Derek wants to see me. The letter said he needs help. If he can forgive me, after all this time… maybe I can forgive myself too…”

Jackson dares a look at Danny now. The Hawaiian man is crying, and it makes Jackson let loose a few tears as well. “Ethan was the one who convinced me to come though. He broke up with me and told me I needed to come back. He was the one who told me to see you. He said that after dating both of us, It was like dating two halves of one whole person. It was his last command of me as my alpha.”

Danny can’t speak; instead, he finally gets up from the table and slowly makes his way over to Jackson. “I thought it was Lydia,” Jackson says. “Since she brought me back to myself, I thought it was her. I thought she was my anchor. But… she wasn’t the one I thought about when I was at my worst… she wasn’t the one I imagined I was with, when I was with Ethan… It was you.” Danny confidently grabs hold of Jackson’s face with both hands. Both men are steadily crying now. “It was always you.”

Bodies flushed closely together, Danny presses his lips to Jackson’s. The kiss is subtle, but purposeful. It feels like home.

——

After the kiss, Danny leads Jackson up to his bedroom. Once the two men enter, it isn’t long before Jackson is sitting on the bed, Danny straddling his lap. The two men kiss away all the pain, all the longing. Finally, Jackson speaks up, “Will you fuck me?”

Danny isn’t shocked. Back in school, Danny had comforted Jackson at every turn, guided him through his anger and trauma. It only makes sense that Jackson would submit to Danny now, to let Danny hold him, guide him.

Danny simply nods. Jackson slowly scoots back on the bed. He takes his shirt off, and then maneuvers out of the rest of his clothes as Danny stands to strip as well. Both men admire the sight. Sure, it’s a sight that they have seen before, back in the locker room, but it’s different now. Jackson looks up to Danny in pure submission, trust and acceptance radiate through his eyes. Danny, well, Danny thinks he’s looking at a dream, something he’s seen before in his sleep, many times. Muscled bodies glisten in the thought of true love.

“I’m already prepped…” Jackson admits timidly. “You don’t have to use a rubber either; I can’t catch anything… or lube… I’ll… I’ll heal… Ethan didn’t always use lube…”

Danny chuckles, “yeah, I remember.” Danny thinks back on his time with Ethan at the mention. It’s true, Ethan didn’t always use lube, and what’s more, he hardly ever let Danny be on top (something about being an alpha). When Danny did get to top however, he loved it. Sex with a werewolf is incredible. They never get stretched out; their healing always keeps them tight. Additionally, a werewolves’ endurance is outstanding. Danny can pound away, if he wants, and never need to worry about hurting them.

This time however, that isn’t what Danny has planned. He makes his way over to his desk drawer to retrieve the lube. When he makes his way back to the bed, Jackson is already laying on his back with his knees propped up, exposing his beautiful pink hole. “This might be over quick,” Danny says. “It’s been awhile.”

Jackson shakes his head. “That’s okay, this is more than I could have hoped for… I’m… grateful.”

At Jackson’s admission, Danny’s heart swells with love. Once he’s properly lubed, he lines himself up to Jackson and begins his decent. Jackson groans at the intrusion as his eyes roll to the back of his head. When Danny’s large length finally bottoms out, he surges forward to press his chest to Jackson’s, arms hooking under the hybrid’s knees so that he doesn’t have to hold them anymore. “Thank you sir,” Jackson whispers out. Danny’s cock leaks a bit of pre-come at the gratitude. This forces another moan out of Jackson, since his nature as a were allows him to feel every move of Danny’s within him. Jackson then reaches behind Danny to pull him even closer.

Danny allows Jackson to relax before moving. His thrusts are slow and meticulous, pulling all the way back to the rim of Jackson’s hole before gradually going all the way back in. This continues on for a few minutes, Danny never speeding up or moving out of rhythm. He wasn’t lying when he said this could be over quickly; he want’s to savor this moment, cherish it forever.

Jackson’s body is fully flushed pink; he holds on to Danny as if he is literally an anchor to the hybrid. His breaths are shallow and his voice is soft. “Thank you sir,” he keeps repeating into Danny’s ear. It isn’t long before Jackson starts crying again, never stopping his repetitions of appreciation.

When Danny comes, he doesn’t stop his slow thrusting into Jackson. He knows that this is what Jackson needs. He needs Danny to claim him, mark him. He needs Danny to cover the walls of his hole with his seed. Danny obliges.

Jackson is full on sobbing now, coming uncontrollably; he can’t even speak. He’s lost in the love he feels. Just like their first kiss, it feels like home. Jackson can feel every pain he’s ever repressed come out and be released into the arms of the man he trusts with his life.

When Danny can thrust no more, he gently slides himself out of Jackson and rolls them both over. He cradles Jackson to his chest as the hybrid continues to cry.

It takes about twenty-five minutes for Jackson to stop crying; it takes another forty-five minutes for Jackson to speak. “Thank you,” he says.

Danny kisses Jackson’s forehead as he rubs circles into the back of his neck. “I love you too,” Danny replies.

Jackson chuckles. “Will you go with me to see Derek? I could really use you there. I’m suppose to meet up with him tonight”

“Of course,” Danny replies. He had completely forgotten about the letter. Curiosity rouses him back awake from his post-sex stupor. This is Danny’s chance to ask Derek about Stiles. He thinks to text Scott, but Scott probably won’t be to happy with his sudden relationship with Jackson, so maybe not. He thinks to text Lydia as well… but she said text him if he learned anything, and Danny hasn’t actually learned anything yet…

Maybe he’ll go see Derek with Jackson first, and then call Lydia. Yeah, that’ll work. He would hate to upset Jackson by getting Lydia involved right now.

——

Jackson and Danny pull up to some abandoned warehouse outside of Beacon Hills. It looks sketchy, but Danny thinks that it’s probably one of the properties that Derek owns and doesn’t actually use.

When the couple get out of the car Jackson turns to look at Danny. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I can smell Derek inside, he’s alone.” Danny nods in support.

When the two make it inside, there’s a man waiting for them. He looks fucking gorgeous and Danny can’t help but recognize him. “Miguel?” Danny asks.

Derek snorts at the sudden realization.

Jackson looks at Danny credulously, “who the fuck is Miguel?”

Danny looks back over at the stunning man in front of him. “You’re not Stiles’ cousin Miguel, are you?”

Derek shakes his head in amusement. “No, no I’m not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this smut is VERY different from what I wrote before, but it's EXACTLY what the story needed...
> 
> P.S. By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).


	15. Mieczyslaw Fucking Hale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

As soon as Lydia drops Malia off at the preserve, she makes her way to speak with her boyfriend, Interim Chief Deputy Jordan Parish. When Stiles went missing (left) two years ago, Sheriff Stilinksi was bound by law to appoint another officer as the lead in his son’s case due to a conflict of interest. Deputy Parish, at the time, was a new recruit to the force; it was easy for the Sheriff to micromanage Parish’s cases without legally being responsible as the leading officer. This led Sheriff Stilinski to assign his son’s case to Deputy Parish.

Lydia felt bad for the handsome man at the time; he was young and impressionable, but he knew nothing of the supernatural world. Over time, Deputy Parish would come to question why Lydia was always so involved with the Stilinski case. She knew things that she wasn’t supposed to know about the department, had a vast amounts of knowledge of the Stilinski family, and was always able to point Parish into the few and sparce leads that could help the case.

It didn’t take long for the romance to begin. Lydia was drawn to the Deputy’s sense of justice and calm composure. Deputy Parish was drawn to Lydia’s incredible wit and intelligence. The two began dating the summer before Lydia left for New York and have remained faithfully in love ever since. When Lydia returned to Beacon Hills the summer after her first year at university, she came back to find that Jordan had all but given up on the case.

There were far too many questions and not enough answers. That’s when Lydia went against the Sheriff’s wishes and told her boyfriend about the supernatural world that Stiles had been integrated in. The initial shock was expected, but what wasn’t expected, was the next day, when Lydia returned to her boyfriend’s office at the station, and he had several printouts of names and addresses of emissaries and supernatural creatures in all five of Stiles’ distraction cities. That’s when the Sheriff started training the Deputy as his successor.

When the Sheriff went missing some few days ago, Deputy Parish was named Interim Chief Deputy to act in his place. Nobody on the force had any disputes. Jordan has since been working tirelessly in association with the pack to find his missing boss. With Lydia’s new information, she is hoping that Jordan will be able to review what little evidence they have and possibly expand the search.

She also means to tell him about the ‘Mischief’ letter, but that thought is overpowered by a sudden encounter. As Lydia pulls into the parking lot of the Beacon County Sheriff's Station, she sees an unmistakable black SUV pulling out. Surly enough, both drivers see one another in passing; Christopher Argent gives Lydia a determined and purposeful nod as he leaves.

——

“Why did I just see Christopher Argent leaving the station?” Lydia asks quickly as she makes her way into Jordan’s office.

“Close the door,” he says seriously, not looking up form a book that he’s reading.

Lydia closes the door and makes her way to the desk. “What is that?” she says, pointing at the book her boyfriend is reading.

“Read that.” Deputy Parish is still reading the book, but he points his chin to a piece of paper on the desk. He has gotten used to Lydia’s incessant questions over time.

Lydia glances down to see a handwritten letter that is unmistakable. She quickly picks it up to read it’s contents:

Dear Interim Chief Deputy Jordan Parish,

You have my sincerest apologies for all the trouble that you have been put through these last couple of years. If my family and I would have arrived in town just a day sooner, we would have been able to protect Sheriff Stilinski, and I would not need to call on your assistance now.

All will be made clear soon, but time is of the essence.

Attached to this letter, I have left a lore book on werewolf customs and traditions. If you would be so kind, please familiarize yourself with its contents prior to tomorrow evening. The McCall Pack and Hale Pack will amass together in a formal setting at such time, and as the current local authority of Beacon Hills, I hereby request your presence as a third party arbitrator (See page 47 of the lore book).

My lawyer will be coming to see you first thing tomorrow morning with the details.

Peace & Blessings

-Mischief Hale

…

Lydia gazes intensely into nothingness. Knowing that she has finished reading, Jordan speaks up, “Christopher Argent received a similar letter. He was here to ask about Noah’s case.” Jordan still has yet to look up from the lore book.

“What did his letter say?” Lydia asks.

“I didn’t read it,” Jordan replies. “He said it was just as vague as mine, but it was longer, with a few more instructions.”

Lydia taps her lips in a calculated motion. “The lawyer mentioned in the letter is Peter Hale. That’s obvious enough. He’s the only lawyer in the Hale family, as far as I’m aware.”

“That one I presumed,” Jordan says, finally putting his book down to look at Lydia, “but I’ve been looking through the records of any other living Hale members and I can’t find anyone other than Cora and Derek.””

Lydia looks at her boyfriend as if something has finally pieced together in her mind. “Dr. Deaton also received a letter this morning, but the signature was just ‘Mischief,’ it didn’t have Hale on the end. Melissa said that Stiles’ mom used to call him Mischief as a child because nobody could ever pronounce his name correctly. Stiles’ full name is on the 'missing persons' report isn’t it?”

Jordan has many questions to ask, but he is a patient man and he knows that Lydia will answer him eventually, she just needs to finish her train of thought first. “Yes, it is… here.” Jordan pulls a case file out of his drawer and passes it to Lydia.

She quickly takes the file and opens it to the first page… Mieczyslaw Stilinski.

“You think the person who is writing all of these letters is actually Stiles, and he’s using Mischief Hale as an alias.” Jordan states rather than questions.

“What if it isn’t an alias though…” Lydia says slowly. Jordan looks at his girlfriend with a confused look. “Humor me… what if all this time, we’re been searching for Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, and we haven’t found anything, because we should have been looking for Mieczyslaw ‘Mischief’ Hale?”

Humoring Lydia, Jordan turns to the computer on his desk and begins typing frivolously. A few seconds go by before Jordan freezes in place, mouth agape and eyes wide. “What is it?” Lydia quickly rushes around the desk to see what Jordan has found.

“It’s a marriage certificate out of Las Vegas, Nevada… for Derek & Mieczyslaw Hale…” Jordan speaks softly, almost inaudible. Lydia takes a sharp breath behind her boyfriend as she begins to read the details. “This doesn’t make sense, if Stiles got married, we would have been notified by the federal database… and look here, it’s signed and dated for Stiles’ eighteenth birthday. He was here in Beacon Hills at the time, nowhere near Nevada…”

The two stare silently at the computer screen for a while before Lydia finally speaks, “I’m going to kill Peter.”

Suddenly, Lydia can hear the echo of a laugh, perhaps a chuckle, coming from somewhere close by. She snaps her head in the direction she thinks the sound came from, but all she can see is the shadow of a bookshelf. For a split second, Lydia thinks she can see movement inside of the shadow, but it’s gone before she can realize it.

“Babe?” Jordan asks quizzically.

“It’s nothing.” Lydia says with purpose. “What’s the address on the marriage certificate”

Jordan takes a moment to read the document. “It’s the old Hale house.”

Lydia then makes her way to leave the office. “Where are you going?” Jordan asks his girlfriend.

“I’m going to hunt down a pack of werewolves, call me in the morning when Peter gets here… if I haven’t killed him yet…” Lydia says aggressively.

Deputy Parish sighs.

——

Lydia all but slams on the brakes of her car as she approaches the remains of the Hale house. In her heels, she marches up the steps and literally kicks the front door off of its hinges. “MIECZYSLAW FUCKING HALE! YOU HAVE SOME GOD DAMN EXPLAINING TO DO!” Nobody is present at the house, but Lydia is no fool, she can feel him. He’s here.

She stalks though the house with the fear of God in her walk. “I’M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN STILES! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!”

…

“Okay, okay…” again, Lydia can hear the echo of a voice somewhere close by. She whips her head around and around, but nobody is there. “I’ll come out… just don’t hurt me, okay.” At the second sound of a voice, Lydia turns to the shadow of a bookshelf, where she is sure she heard the sound come from.

Slowly, the darkness inside the house begins to move around, almost in the rhythm of a dance. It’s quite poetic. From where Lydia is staring at the shadow of the bookshelf, the dark shape of a human starts to take form. It slowly begins to walk towards her but she stands her ground, unafraid. The closer and closer it gets, the more color comes to the person in front of her.

Finally, the creature comes to a complete stop and reveals himself fully.

“Hey Lyds…” Stiles says coyly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a short chapter as well, but it is without a doubt, my favorite 'reunion' so far.....


	16. This Is Private Property

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

**The Following Morning**

Cora stalks patiently around the remains of the Hale house. In anticipation for the meeting this evening, Derek had asked her to keep patrol of the area to ensure that the McCall pack didn’t try anything sneaky. He didn’t believe that they would be stupid enough to place any traps in the area, but it would be best to proceed with caution either way; their alpha is Scott McCall after all…

To be honest, Cora is glad that she wasn’t given a charge to speak to prior to the meeting of the packs. She’s sick of waiting around, doing nothing, letting Stiles and his little pups do all the searching around town with their little 'shadow walking.' The time has been edging on the line of her worry and anticipation; she doesn’t know if speaking to anybody would be a good idea right now. She’s happy that she finally gets to roam the preserve, even if she must watch over the site of her former life. A life she doesn’t even remember much anymore.

While keeping hidden in the woods nearby, Cora hears a car pull up to the house. ‘So the idiots came early after all,’ Cora thinks to herself. Cora decides to wait patiently at a safe distance. One of the many benefits of being a born wolf, is that time and practice has gifted Cora with skills and abilities that surpass any random, bitten wolf. Even if set toe-to-toe with an alpha who was originally bitten, Cora is not to be underestimated. She is quick, ferocious, and she knows her body well. The psyche of a werewolf who is still coming to terms with their inner nature is a disadvantage that Cora does not have.

Additionally, she has honed her senses even further. After the fire, she had to rely on instincts to survive. She may not be capable of a full shift, but she can adjust her heart rate on command, hear from much further away than most, and her skills allow her to truly become one with her surroundings. To any werecreature nearby, Cora’s presence feels the same as any typical animal in the wildlife. She is only recognizable as supernatural if somebody is within her immediate space. This allows Cora to stalk prey undetected. A lethal trait that she is proud to boast as Derek’s second-in-command.

Surprisingly, when the car door opens, Cora only hears one heartbeat. It’s somewhat calm, but also nervous. She makes her way closer to her prey in order to see who it is. As she slowly draws near, a strange scent hits her nostrils and her eyes flare their beta yellow. The aroma is like something that Cora has never encountered before. It’s soft, the most calming scent she has ever experienced. It smells like ocean air. It reminds her of the beach in South America. Instantly, she knows that the person is a werewolf from the subtle notes of wilderness and pheromones, but this person isn’t a member of the McCall pack. They smell wild, like an omega; soft undertones of shame and guilt lie dormant within them.

As she makes her way closer, she hides herself in the bushes off to the right. The stranger then approaches the house. The young man is handsome… too handsome. He’s fairly tall, wearing vans, simple blue jeans, a white t-shirt that hugs his slim muscles tightly, a lightweight cardigan, and a sheer scarf. ‘Who wears a fucking scarf in the middle of summer?!’ Cora thinks to herself. In the young man’s defense, the dark blue cardigan and light blue scarf expertly accent the ocean-like eyes that rest easy under beach-like, curly blonde hair.

Cora’s wolf begins to purr and prod at her.

MATE! MATE! MATE!

Cora quiets her wolf quickly and gathers her resolve to approach the intruder. The young man has still yet to notice her; instead, he appears to be reading a piece of paper that is in his hand, looking quite lost.

Cora, unbeknownst to herself, speaks a phrase that comes from the past, as well as destiny itself. “This is private property.”

The young man looks up in shock, embarrassed. He looks Cora over a few times and starts blushing; the musk of arousal hits Cora’s nose like a freight train. Cora’s wolf begins to howl within her and she uncontrollably flashes her eyes in challenge.

The young man stumbles back a bit in fear. “I’m sorry… um, are you Cora Hale?” Cora’s anger grows rapidly but she doesn’t speak. How does this wolf know who she is? Her eyes squint in suspicion and the stranger begins to speak again, “I, umm… well, I got this letter from somebody named Mischief. It said that Stiles and Derek want to see me. I’m supposed to find a woman named Cora and ask her to explain what’s going on… I… I thought Stiles was missing…”

Cora relaxes suddenly. “You’re Isaac Lahey.”

Isaac nods. Cora has heard the stories. Isaac Lahey was once one of Derek’s betas. He was Derek’s second-in-command as a matter of fact, before Cora. He was also dating Allison Argent at the time of the Nogitsune possession. After Erica and Boyd ran away, Isaac followed suite shortly after, leaving town with Allison’s father. When Derek rescued Cora from the Alpha Pack, Isaac was already long gone.

Apparently, Stiles has taken a few pages out of Alex’s sneaky playbook. Cora quickly takes her phone out of her back pocket to send off a hateful text.

Cora: I’m going to fucking kill you.

Stiles: =D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may just be the cutest thing I've written in a while.....
> 
> I hope you all like this chapter; I've been waiting to release this one. It was one of the first chapters I wrote for this milestone...


	17. Where Were You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains graphic content that may be triggering for some audiences.

Scott steps into the living room of his family house. He looks around to see the members of his pack looking both excited and wary. “Where are the others?” Scott asks, noticing Lydia, Malia, and Danny are not present.

Liam answers, “I texted Lydia to ask her where she is but she told me that she would meet us at the Hale house with Malia and Danny.”

Scott is disappointed; the pack needs to show a united front. This is politics. Scott hasn’t had much of a chance to speak with other packs formally. He knows that his pack is strained, to say the least, but if Stiles is in fact with Derek, things will only become more complicated from here. Sheriff Stilinski is still missing, and the search isn’t going well. If the complications only grow, Scott is afraid that his pack may not hold out much longer…

Scott pulls his phone out of his back pocket to reread the short conversation he had with Lydia last night.

Scott: We’ve decided to meet with the Hale Pack formally. We need to know if Stiles is with them, and we need to know why they’re back. Deaton is going to brief us on formalities.

Lydia: Betas don’t speak in formal meetings unless spoken to. We’ll see you tomorrow.

“There isn’t much more we can do at this point,” Deaton interjects Scott’s train of thought. “We should be leaving before the sun begins to set.” 

Kira now comes up to rest a reassuring hand on her mate’s shoulder. Scott nods determinedly.

Melissa comes into view as she descends the stairs from the second floor. She’s wearing her work scrubs and name badge. Scott is both disappointed and relived that she is unable to come to the meeting. She needs to leave for her overnight shift at the hospital soon. She comes up to Scott to give him a reassuring hug. “Everything will be okay Scott. I know you don’t like them much, but the Hales are good people. If Stiles truly is with them, then I’m happy to know that he’s safe.” Scott nods at his mother in acceptance. “Okay, you be safe,” Melissa says as she pats her son on the chest, “love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Scott says. He looks around the room to his pack… “okay, let’s go.”

——

Chris Argent, Isaac, and Jackson wait calmly inside Chris’s black SUV. They are parked a few blocks away from their true destination. Chris looks over to Isaac, both men sitting in the front seats of the car. “You need the correct headspace for this,” he says.

Isaac suddenly turns to look at Chris. Chris has become somewhat of a father to the young man. While the two have been away, Chris has taught Isaac everything he can about werewolves and the tendencies they have, hoping that one day, he would be able to find a pack that could support him physically and emotionally.

“Sorry, I was just…” Isaac’s voice trails off. He’s thinking about Cora, the strong and beautiful wolf he just met; he blushes slightly. He shakes his head and exhales a strong breath. Chris is right. Isaac needs to focus. This is important; Cora is important too… but that can wait.

Chris and Isaac hear the sound of a notification coming from Jackson’s phone in the back seat. Everybody’s heartrate picks up a little. Jackson leans forwards a bit to speak to the two, “that was Danny. He said that the pack’s cellphones show that they are headed out of the city and on their way to the Hale house. He’s deactivating the security system and the surrounding traffic cameras now. He, Malia, and Lydia are about to join the others at the meeting as soon as he’s done.”

With this information, Chris starts the engine to the car and begins to pull out. “You know,” Chris begins to say, “this Danny kid is pretty helpful. Without his help we could easily go to jail for breaking and entering.” Now it’s Jackson’s turn to blush. “Alright boys, it’s time to put your game face on. If Stiles’ assumptions are correct, this won’t be a simple search and rescue mission. Stay vigilant.”

Both men nod at Chris’ words.

——

As soon as the McCall Pack’s cars pull into the driveway of the old Hale house, they immediately notice the presence of a Deputy cruiser. “Is that Jordan’s cruiser?” Liam asks as everybody steps out of their cars. “What is he doing here?” The Pack all look to one another in confusion.

Scott turns to Deaton for an explanation. Deaton’s demeaner is calm, but on the inside, he is quite perturbed. With the removal of Sheriff Stilinski from the public, he did not assume that local law enforcement would be invited to any supernatural functions… but no matter, Deaton is prepared for law enforcement. “I’m not sure,” he says calmly. “I was unaware that he may be invited as well.”

Just then, the pack can hear a shuffling inside the house. Everybody turns to look and notices that the front door is detached from its rotted hinges and has been placed gently up against the wall nearby. A voice calls out from inside, “allow me to answer that.”

Scott, as well as the rest of the pack, freeze in anticipation. The sound of that voice is unmistakable. Everybody present waits anxiously as two figures walk out of the house and out onto the porch. There, for everybody to see, is Stiles and Derek, standing side by side. Relief and anger flow though the McCall Pack all at once.

Stiles looks incredible, standing next to Derek with a smirk on his face and both hands in his pockets laxly. He’s wearing tight black jeans that hug his toned thighs brilliantly as well as a well-fitted white t-shirt that shows off a surprising amount of slim muscle over his chest and abs. He’s also wearing a very thin, modern looking, black leather jacket that looks like it belongs on some male model, at some sort of European fashion show. Both his t-shirt and his jacket, have a low, wide-cut neckline that allows for the presentation of a mating scar, resting proudly on the left side of his neck. His face has lost its baby fat; instead, it is now filled with the strong polish features of high cheekbones, sharp eyebrows, and a beautifully feminine cut jawline. His hair has grown out a few inches as well. A strong, yet slightly messy, quiff-like hairstyle helps give the impression of casual business.

Derek, standing next to him, looks just about the same as he did several years ago, but something is different about his composure. He’s wearing typical blue jeans, a dark green Henley shirt, and his signature leather jacket that looks much more functional, and rustic, than Stiles’. 

As the McCall pack stare at the two in shock and awe, Cora Hale steps out of the front door and silently stands nearby Derek. Everybody hears a shuffling around the side of the house, and soon, Peter Hale and Jordan Parish come walking around to the front. Peter has his hand placed respectfully of Deputy Parish’s back and guides him to a neutral location in between the two packs that is slightly off to the side.

“Peter was just showing Deputy Parish here around the house,” Stiles says with a mischievous smirk in his tone. “They’ve been discussing pack dynamics and werewolf customs all morning in preparation for this lovely little meeting. I hope none of you mind, but I invited Deputy Parish here to act as a political mediator and arbitrator.” At this, everybody turns too look at Deputy Parish, still speechless. He and Peter share a respectful nod with one another before Peter makes his way up the porch to stand nearby Stiles, on the opposite side of Cora.

Deaton then notices a rather old, leather covered book in the Deputy’s hands. “It is customary to announce such a stipulation prior to a formal meeting. Surly you are aware of this political notion Emissary Stilinski.”

Stiles’ smirk turns to a full-on grin. “Of course, Emissary Deaton, but seeing as though we are meeting on Hale property, instead of neutral territory, it is not uncommon for established werewolf packs to align themselves with a legal representative…” Deaton remains stoic at the subtle excuse. “Also,” Stiles continues, “my name is not Stilinski anymore.” Stiles begins to walk down the porch steps; Derek and the pack follow closely. “Ahh, where are my manners. My name is Mieczyslaw Hale, emissary and alpha-mate of the incredible Hale Pack. You may call me Stiles if it truly befits your pleasure.” Stiles bows gracefully when he approaches a comfortable distance in front of the McCall pack. He is clearly having fun…

Scott stares wordlessly at his long-lost best friend. He wishes to embrace him, scent him all over, but the scent that overpowers his senses keeps him frozen in place. Stiles doesn’t smell like Stiles anymore, well, he does, but it’s different now. He smells like Derek, well all of the Hales actually, but mostly, he smells like Derek… an alpha… another alpha… an alpha that is not Scott…

“This is my husband, Alpha Derek Hale.” Stiles says calmly, as if every word he speaks isn’t a slap in the face to literally every member of the McCall Pack. Scott whips his head to look at Stiles’ left hand, a hand that is motioning vaguely at Derek now. Sure enough, Stiles is wearing a ring on his finger. The ring is thin and beautiful. It is not made of metal, the look and smell of it says that clearly; instead, it is a full band of white moonstone that rest easily over Stiles’ finger. There are no sockets for gems or engraved designs anywhere; it’s just a glorious, thin-yet-wide, moonstone band. A quick glance over to Derek’s hand shows an incredible wedding ring as well. It’s a black obsidian band that is much thicker, and wider, than Stiles’ moonstone band. Neither ring have any adornments, but Scott is still stricken by their subtle beauty and power.

“And of course,” Stiles continues, “You all know the rest of the pack, Peter and Cora Hale.” Just then, everybody can hear the engine of an approaching vehicle. Shortly after the car pulls up, Lydia, Danny, and Malia make their way to a safe distance in between the McCall pack and Deputy Parish. Stiles claps his hands together before he speaks, “Alright, everybody is here I presume. Shall we begin?”

——

“Alright,” Chris says, “eyes peeled. Try to remain quiet; if there is anybody else in here other than the Sherriff, the element of surprise is important.” Isaac nods dutifully and Jackson pops his knuckles in the shape of a fist. “As soon as we get in, we do a sweep of the area before we find the door to the basement. If there are any traps here, we need to deactivate them before there is a confrontation.”

Chris then makes his way up to the back door of the building with Isaac and Jackson close behind. As expected, the door is locked. However, with the security system disabled, Chris picks the lock easily, knowing that the police will not be notified of their presence. As soon as they enter, all three men do a thorough sweep of the first floor, nothing.

“I don’t hear anything,” Jackson says quietly.

“I don’t smell anything,” Isaac says shortly after.

Chris hums, “whatever magic is warding the basement has probably cut off all sounds and scents. As soon as we break it, I’m sure we’ll be able to find whatever presence Stiles said he could sense.”

The boys nod and separate to find the door they are looking for. After a while, Jackson is the one to speak up, “guys, you’re going to want to see this.” Chris and Isaac make their way around to where Jackson is squatting nearby a locked door. 

Isaac places his hand on the wall of the door and hisses softly. “I can feel mountain ash just behind the door. It’s strong as shit.”

“There’s more than that,” Jackson says. “I can feel Rowan Oak behind the door as well. I can’t even open it… but this is what concerns me…” Jackson then swipes a finger loosely over the doorknob and brings his finger close to his face. 

There is a gloss of clear liquid on Jackson’s finger that he’s rubbing with his thumb. “What is it?” Chris asks.

Jackson then brings his finger gingerly to the tip of his tongue for a small taste. “That’s definitely kamina venom. Don’t touch it with your bare hands guys…”

Isaac flares his nostrils, trying to catch a scent. “Why can’t I smell it?”

Chris clenches his jaw and furrows his brows in anger… “Magic.” Chris then takes his leather gloves out of his jacket pocket and prepares his lock pocking kit once more. “This is difficult with gloves on,” he says. “Give me a minute.”

——

Scott zones out while Deaton preforms the formal introductions. “Stiles…” he says sorrowfully as soon as Deaton has finished.

“Alpha McCall,” Stiles says professionally, devoid of any emotion.

It takes a moment for Scott to speak, and when he does, it’s still monosyllabic. “Why?” he asks. He doesn’t know where to start; he has so many questions: ‘Why did you leave, why are you in another pack, why are you married to Derek Hale…’ 

Stiles lets out a long breath, “…because Scott.” Stiles can only assume that Scott is asking about his membership in the Hale pack, seeing as though he just introduced himself as the emissary. “This is where I belong.” A single tear finds it’s way to Scott’s face. “This is my family. I love them, and they love me. We protect one another, and we work together, for a better fu—”

“We’re your family!” Scott interjects. “You belong with us! We protect you!” At this, Derek, Cora, and Peter all flash their eyes at Scott, a proclamation, a challenge. Derek has yet to speak, but a guttural growl makes it way out of him, a warning.

Stiles quickly places his hand on Derek’s shoulder to calm him and keep him from attacking. the Hales recede, in respect for their emissary. Stiles then turns to look at Scott. His face is hard and angry when he speaks next. “Then where were you when Donovan Donati was trying to kill me?” A wave of shame falls over the entire McCall pack. Even Lydia and Malia hang their heads in disgrace. “Where was my family, Scott …where were you?”

Theo is the one to reply, “they were following the law, not murdering a teenage boy with mental problems!” All eyes turn to the left hand of the McCall Pack. Lydia, clearly wanting to retort, steps forward to speak, but Malia and Danny both grab hold of her.

Stiles chuckles. All eyes turn to him as he continues to laugh softly. “I didn’t kill Donovan Donati.” He says calmly.

“What,” Scott says, bewildered. He didn’t hear an uptick in Stiles’ heart just now. What’s going on?

“It is true,” Stiles continues, “I did have an altercation with Donovan, but I’m not the one who killed him.” 

Everybody looks bewildered and confused, but no more so than Scott. “What do you mean you didn’t kill him? You told me you did; I heard your confession.”

Stiles sighs. “Scott, do you know what a windingo is?” Deaton then perks up in attention. “Donovan Donati was a windingo. I learned this a few months after leaving Beacon Hills. Do you know how hard it is to kill a windingo Scott? It’s pretty fucking hard. You have to rip their head off to prevent them from healing any wounds or regrowing limbs. A metal rod through the heart would knock them out for a few minutes… but they would get right back up as soon as their heart began to reform.”

Deaton and Theo are displeased to learn that Stiles knows about Donovan. Deaton has remained calm, but Theo is visually disturbed. “Then where is he, hu Stiles? How coinvent that he isn’t around to support your claim.”

“Oh he’s dead, for sure, but I’m not the one who killed him.” Stiles states nonchalantly. “The guardian of the Nemeton was the one to finish him off apparently.”

Deaton then decides to finally interject. “Mr. Hale—”

“Emissary Hale,” Stiles corrects.

Deaton releases a long breath through his nose. “Emissary Hale, the only ‘Guardian of the Nemeton’ is Alpha McCall. Since the entire Hale Pack abandoned the territory, the Hale Alpha can no longer claim guardianship for the Nemeton, meaning that Alpha McCall is the only werewolf who can be referred to by such a title. Surly, you’re not implying that Alpha Scott McCall was the one to kill Donovan Donati.”

“Okay…” Stiles says mockingly, “I have never heard anybody say so many incorrect statements… one after the other… consecutively… in a row… no wonder nobody trusts you…” Quite a few snorts can be heard around the yard. “Firstly, the entirety of the Hales did not abandon the territory.” Deaton then means to retort Stiles obviously false statement, but Stiles continues before he can. “We kept an envoy here,” Stiles says with a blinding grin plastered to his face. He motions for Malia to step forward. She then slowly makes her way up to Deputy Parish, head remained tilted to the ground, choosing not to look at anybody.

Deputy Parish looks to Stiles; the two men nod in silent communication. The officer then clears his throat to speak, also opening the book he’s holding and withdrawing a few sheets of paper.

Deaton furrows his brow as realization hits him. “Olivia Hale, also known as Malia Tate, age 22, was born at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital on November 28th 1993. This means that she was 18 years old when she became the last member of the Hale bloodline to reside in the Beacon Hills territory.” Parish then holds up a few pieces of paper that were folded inside of his book. “This here, is Olivia Hale’s birth certificate; it names Peter Hale as her biological father.” Holding up another piece of paper, Parish continues, “This, is the last will and testament of Peter Hale. When Peter Hale was announced dead three and a half years ago, Olivia Hale technically inherited all of Peter’s possessions. A Legality that Peter never disputed.” All eyes turn to Malia as she continues to stare at the floor. It isn’t direct, but she is betraying her pack with her silence. Her face is flushed red and her eyes are closed.

“Because of this,” Parish continues, “within all rights, Olivia Hale currently owns the land and property of 6194 Olsen Ave., Town home on the western side of Beacon Hills city limits. Being a member of the McCall pack, protector of the territory, and owner of territory land, Olivia Hale is hereby qualified to act as an official envoy of Beacon Hills territory for the bloodline of the Hale family. Because Alpha Derek Hale never handed the territory over to Alpha McCall in an official ceremony, the territory still belongs to the guardianship of the Hale Pack.”

Deaton is furious. Of course… that is why Deputy Parish was invited. Third party arbitrators are practitioners of the law, i.e. in this case, a law enforcement officer. Their sole purpose within official meetings is to recognize, clarify, and settle any political disputes that are not clearly outlined within government law, but are faced by supernatural organizations… such as territorial rights.

Technically, third party arbitrators are held to the same standard and reputation of an alpha. As such, even if Deaton were to attempt to argue a case, the vote of Alpha Hale and Deputy Pariash would outweigh the vote of Alpha McCall… and with Scott unaware of such standards, it would be impossible to dispute such claims against Deputy Parish and Alpha Hale… 

Deaton then turns to Stiles. A wonderous grin is painted on the young emissary’s face. He must have become quite familiar with supernatural politics to be able to orchestrate this within just a matter days. The letter, meeting on Hale property, claiming Malia as an envoy… Deaton has kept everybody in the dark about such political loopholes for a reason. He never imagined that Stiles would be capable of such… intricacies. These are all notions that have been long forgotten; arbitrators, envoys, guardians… notions that faded away with the rise of hunters, but are still to be honored when evoked.

This isn’t an announcement of arrival… this, is an ambush.

Just as Deaton has gathered his thoughts to speak, his mental wards are triggered. Somebody has entered the basement of the veterinary clinic…

——

As soon as Chris finishes picking the basement lock, he slowly nudges the door open. Being human, he slips his hand into the stairway to break the line of whatever magical ashes block the way.

With the magic of the barrier now broken, the three men can hear the raged voice of a young female, mid-sentence. “—bullshit! I’m sick of babysitting some grown ass man, wiping his shit, turning him around, bathing him. This is fucking ridiculous! If we just kill him now, Stiles will still fucking show up looking for him! Look at him; he’s been asleep for three fucking days now!”

“You know we can’t do that Tracey…” the pathetic voice of a young man says softly. “He’ll kill us and you know it.”

“Man up Corey!” the female, Tracey, retorts. “Theo may be Deaton’s fucking ‘favorite,’ but he’s no more powerful than the rest of us!”

“Quiet!” a third voice shouts. This voice is rough and strong.

“Lucas?” Corey asks hesitantly.

“Corey, take Noah and hide.” Lucas demands. “We have guests…”

Whoever the three people are in the basement, they have Noah. Chris, Isaac, and Jackson prepare themselves for a fight.

——

Stiles then lifts his hand up, two fingers raised high. “Secondly, in the list of things you have incorrect, I was speaking of neither Alpha McCall, nor Alpha Hale, when I mentioned the Guardian of the Nemeton. I was speaking of the Nemeton’s personal Guardian.”

Deaton is brought out of his worry for the clinic at the mention of a third Guardian. “Personal Guardian?” he asks.

Stiles smiles proudly. “You mean to tell me that the all-knowing emissary of Beacon Hills is unaware of the Nemeton’s personal Guardian?” The look in Stiles’ eyes is pure deviation. Whatever knowledge he has acquired, he is going to stretch it for as long as he can against Deaton. “When I arrived in Beacon Hills, I took a trip to see the Nemeton. It had a great many things to say.”

Scott, Deaton, Theo, Liam, and Kira are all struck with confusion. “You can speak to the Nemeton?” Liam asks.

“Of course I can; part of my soul lives within the Nemeton after all.” Stiles says nonchalantly. “Just like part of your soul lives within the Nemeton as well, Scott.” At this, Deaton’s anger begins to show. Learning that Stiles is now able to speak to the Nemeton is the most disturbing piece of news so far. Scott stares at Stiles bewildered. “Wait…” Stiles says slowly. “Scott, surly, your emissary has told you by now that the void within you is connected to the Nemeton indefinitely, correct? I mean, why would he not tell you that you can use it to draw on its power? Why would he not tell you how to control it? At the bare minimum, he has told you that your void must be controlled, least you succumb to the manipulation and indifference of the darkness within you…”

Scott dares a look at his Emissary, rage flooding his eyes. Deaton retains his stare down at Stiles. The mocha colored man is silent, but his left eyelid begins to twitch. Derek, who has remained silent the whole time, can’t help but let a smirk appear on his face at the visible irritation on Deaton’s face.

Stiles fails his limbs around aimlessly, “but I digress! What I was meaning to say, is that dark magic is weakening the Nemeton day by day. Something has been draining it’s power for corrupt purposes.” Theo is now the one to sneer. Fortunately, nobody in the McCall pack notices, to enraptured by Stiles and his words. “As such, the Nemeton has been crying out for help subconsciously. Somebody, or rather… something, answered its call.”

“Emissary Hale,” Deaton interjects, “if the Nemeton had chosen a personal Guardian, I would know about it. Do you expect me to believe that there has been a supernatural Guardian within the territory for the past three years, and none of us have noticed?”

“No,” Stiles responds, “I don’t expect you to believe it. To my knowledge, the Guardian themself, is not even aware of who they are.” Deaton squints his eyes in disbelief. “Here, allow me to explain:

The Nemeton is a sentient being; this, you all know. It’s kind of like a person, but not. Rather, the sheer amount on lifeforce and power that lives within the Nemeton has given it a consciousness. This consciousness is in pain, and as such, it subconsciously called out for somebody to help it, and subconsciously, somebody actually answered. From what I understand, when the telluric currents pick up a dangerous presence, the Nemeton sends out an SOS for its guardian to go into action. This Guardian is unaware of its actions when it is bemused by the Nemeton’s beckoning. When I spoke to the Nemeton, it told me that its Guardian dragged Donavon Donati into the clearing, ripped his head off, and burned him to ashes.”

Deaton then looks around to everybody else present. The hales are all looking smug as fuck. Deputy Parish looks thoughtful, yet indifferent. Even Lydia, Danny, and Mailia look complacent with the news. It would appear as though this moment has been dutifully prepared. Deaton then turns back to Stiles. “Why have you returned? I’m gathering that you have been safe and sound all this time. You have learned a great many things. And it would appear as though you have even gained a bit of control over your void. Did you come here to reclaim the territory and slowly destroy the McCall pack by recruiting some of it’s betas? Clearly, Malia, as acting envoy, plans to join her family now.”

“Why ask, if you have already made your assumptions?” Stiles asks, with a glint in his eye. “No, we are not here to reclaim the land, or destroy the McCall pack. We came back to Beacon Hills for the sole purpose of protecting my father from impending danger. I received word that his life my be in danger, and we rushed here to protect him. Unfortunately, we were a day too late.”

At the mention of Sheriff Stilinski, Deaton is reminded of his guest who must have encountered Lucas, Tracey, and Corey. Deaton wishes to call them, but excusing himself from the situation at hand is not an option… wait… this isn’t an ambush… this is a distraction…

——

Chris and Isaac stare down their enemy. He’s some sort of abomination… He has the eyes and claws of a werewolf, but a long scorpion-like tail hangs terrifyingly behind him. His skin is tough and harsh, much like a protective shell. Chris’ bullets don’t seem to be working. He quickly holsters his gun and pulls out one of the knives he has strapped to his harness; if he is going to conquer his enemy, he will need to get close, strike him in a soft spot, perhaps the neck, or the eyes.

Chris dares a look at Jackson. The hybrid is matched toe-to-toe with another abomination. She looks much like a werewolf/kamina hybrid, but compared to Jackson, she is clearly more human than he is. Her claws, tail, and fangs are clearly distorted in some way. “Isaac, go find Noah. We’ll take care of this. As soon as we have Noah, we retreat.”

Isaac nods at Chris. He rushes past the scorpion man, Lucas, and heads for the depths of the basement, following the scent of medication and the sound of Noah’s slow heartrate. As Isaac makes his way past, a long scorpion tail makes its way to strike the werewolf, but a quickly thrown knife penetrates the tail mid air and pins it to a nearby wall. Lucas sneers at Chris. “I am your opponent,” Chris says seriously.

——

“For the past several days, I have been searching every nook and cranny for my father,” Stiles continues. “I have exhausted every option that is available to me. When it became clear that my father was being held prisoner by magical means, I began preparing a course of action to search a location that was unavailable to us.” At this, Stiles turns to look directly at Deaton with an all-knowing look of mischief in his eyes. Theo also takes a look at Deaton, contemplating what Stiles is trying to say.

Scott is the one to speak up. “You’ve been here for days, searching the town? How did you avoid us all? We’ve been doing the same thing this whole time.”

Stiles chuckles, “oh right, of course. I neglected to mention the extent of my control.” Stiles then turns to look at Scott. His face changes into the expression of concentration and power. His eyes glow their double sided supernatural and the McCall pack gasp in surprise. Just then, the shadows around them begin to dance and sway. The sun is setting nicely over the tree line at this point and there are many shadows lurking about: the tree’s shadows, the pack’s shadows, even the shadow of the old Hale house. Stile’s personal shadow begins to grow and darken. Dramatically, three wolfs begin to take shape within the darkness and come to view.

As the shadows begin to settle, Stiles’ eyes return to their honey-amber color. Three fully grown wolves now sit obediently in front of Stiles and Derek. “Meet the pups!” Stiles says joyously, arms out in excitement. “These are the children of my second litter! The four of us have been traveling shadow by shadow, searching for their grandpa!”

Everybody is shocked and surprised, but none more so the Deaton. Seeing the dual sided glow of Stiles eyes is a daunting sight. Their appearance means that Stiles has not only fully purified his soul, but the spark within him has been reactivated, and now works hand-in-hand with his void on a balanced scale…

‘Dear God…’ Deaton thinks to himself. In two short years, Stiles has become something more powerful than anybody here can imagine… this changes everything… 

Originally, the plan was to kill Stiles after Theo kills Scott… but that may not be much of an option anymore…

Deaton looks about the Hale Pack. Derek, Alpha of the Hale Pack, is the definition of dominance and protection. Cora, second-in-command, is the definition of loyalty and obedience. Peter, the left hand, is the definition of malice and mystery. Stiles… Emissary and alpha-mate, seems to be something that nobody can quite put their finger on… If Stiles now has control over his spark, then he would be able to magically track down the Sheriff…

Deaton begins to rethink some of his plans…

——

Isaac stalks into a room in the basement that looks more like a hospital room than a prison cell. He picks up the sound of two heartbeats nearby; one of them is calm and smoothe, asleep, the other is racing anxiously. He slowly walks over to a curtain behind some machines and IV poles. When he pulls the curtain aside, he sees nothing, but the scent of Noah and a stranger find his nose easily. Claws out, eyes glowing, Isaac slowly reaches out into the empty air, where two heart beats are clearly coming from.

“WAIT! WAIT!” A voice cries out. Suddenly, the image of a young, thin man, holding Sheriff Stilinksi bridal style begins to appear into view. Color is strange around them, parts of their bodies that are not clearly visible are covered by some sort of moving rainbow. “You can have him! Here! Please, just don’t kill me!”

——

“What the fuck…” Liam breathes out. “What are those?” All the werecreatures present can tell that the wolves don’t have hearts, and they all have the exact same scent, which should be impossible.

“Like I said, these are my pups,” Stiles says proudly. “You have claws and fangs; I have kids. Think of them as an extension of my body, kind of like my very own beta shift. Together, the four of us use my void to disappear into nothingness, and then we use my spark to reappear into… somethingness. It’s kind of strange to explain.”

Deaton stares at the obvious Golems. The magic coating them is clearly the work of a powerful spark.

“Unfortunately, there are a few places that I can’t enter without detection, so we asked a few friends of ours to check it out in my stead.” Stiles turns to Deaton. The look in his eye is the look of victory.

Suddenly, a phone starts ringing. Deputy Pariah then pulls his phone out of his back pocket and answers the call on speakerphone. A rugged voice is panting loudly. “We have him Parish.” All eyes turn to the phone. This is unmistakably the voice of Christopher Argent. “Isaac is taking Noah to the hospital as we speak. Jackson and I suffered a few unexplainable wounds but we are fine. We even took a hostage for interrogation. We’ll meet you at the station soon.”

“Good work Argent,” Parish says. “I’ll be there soon.” Parish then hangs up the phone and begins to walk towards Deaton.

“It looks like my assumption was correct,” Stiles says victoriously. “It’s over Deaton.”

“Alan Deaton,” Deputy Parish begins, “you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be—”

Deaton interrupts Parish by holding his hand out and creating a magical barrier around the McCall pack. “No, it’s not over quite yet.”

The McCall pack is flabbergasted, looking back and forth between Deaton, Stiles, and Parish questioningly. Why is Deaton being arrested? How did Chris find Noah? What are Isaac and Jackson doing here?

Suddenly, a loud banshee scream assaults everybody’s ears. Everybody, human, kitsune, werewolf, and spark alike curl downward at the unexpected sound. All eyes are closed and everybody has their hands covering their ears.

When the scream finally comes to an end. Everybody looks up to see the most unexpected, and gruesome sight imaginable. Alpha Scott McCall stands abnormally lax. There is blood dripping down his chest, where Theo Raeken’s arm is skewered though his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).


	18. Everything Will Be Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains graphic content that may be triggering for some audiences.

**About Four Years Ago, At Motel California**

Stiles, Lydia, and Allison stare at Scott in the middle of the parking lot. The smell of gasoline dilutes the fresh rainwater in the air. Allison is in tears, seeing Scott in such a state of darkness. Lydia is trepidatious, for once, she doesn’t know what to do…

Stiles takes a step forward. “Scott just listen to me okay,” his voice is shaky. “You’re not no one, okay. You’re someone.” Stiles takes another step forward. “Scott, you’re my best friend, okay, and I need you… Scott, you’re my brother… alright, so…” Another step forward, Stiles is now standing on the gasoline that taints the floor. “…if you’re going to do this, then…” Stiles reaches for the flare currently blazing in Scotts hands. Scott allows him to grab hold. “…I think you’re just going to have to take me with you.”

Both men stand holding the open flame, covered in a moment of life and death. Tears begin to roll down Scott’s face; he sees the loyalty and determination in his brother’s eyes. Scott begins to loosen his grip on the flare.

Stiles grabs hold of the flare fully and gingerly takes it from Scott. A small smile makes its way to his face as Scott begins to cry. He throws the flare off to the side. It’s over. Everything will be okay.

——

**About Four Days Ago, Somewhere In Between Colorado and Beacon Hills**

“He was my brother.” Stiles says out of nowhere. He is staring out the passenger side window of the Camaro, nothing but desert now paints the view. “I would have died for him.”

From where Derek’s driving, he reaches out a hand for his mate. As their hands embrace, they both squeeze lovingly. “I know,” he says solemnly.

Stiles turns to look at Derek, tears forming in his eyes. “Back then, I didn’t know how I could live my life without him. Now, I don’t know how I could live my life around him.”

“You aren’t doing this alone Stiles,” Derek says as he brings Stiles’ hand to his lips. “I will never let go of you.”

Love adorns the two as Stiles is calmed. Everything will be okay.

——

**About Four Hours Ago, Inside The Old Hale House**

“He doesn’t know,” Stiles says worriedly. “Scott has been looking for my dad all this time, and Deaton has had him in his fucking clinic.”

Derek comes up to embrace his mate comfortingly. “He isn’t the smartest wolf in the world Stiles.”

“No, he isn’t,” Stiles breathes out. “But… he’s always tried.” Stiles turns to look at his mate in the eyes. “Scott has his flaws, just like everybody else, just like you… just like me… but he’s always tried to do the right thing.” Tears start to roll down Stiles’ face. “Life happens, people change, situations put us in a place where we have to make terrible decisions sometimes… but Scott has always tried his best. Ever since he’s had a void of his own, Deaton’s been using him; I just know it. Scott can’t see it… he doesn’t know any better.”

Derek takes his mate’s head into both of his hands to speak to him directly. “When all of this is over, we’ll figure this out. We’ll make it work. We’ll set things right.”

Stiles stares into Derek’s eyes as if they hold all the answers… and seemingly, they do. Everything will be okay.

——

**The Present**

Everybody is stunned, frozen in place. Lydia begins to pass out, but luckily, Jordan has not moved far away from her and is able to catch her. Liam takes a step back in fear while Kira’s eyes begin to water at the sight she is seeing.

From behind Scott, Theo stares intently at Stiles, the most cliché smirk pinned to his lips. 

Stiles stares back, too surprised to do anything else. Something within him begins to vibrate, his spark. The feeling reminds him of the purification ritual, when the sound of a bumblebee made its way into his soul. Something is happening…

Stiles looks over to Scott, where the True Alpha is staring at the arm through his chest, eyes blazing crimson. Time moves slowly. ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen’ Stiles thinks to himself. Stiles’ spark begins to bubble up, reach out. It’s reaching for Scott… it’s reaching for Theo…

Stiles thinks that his spark means to protect Scott somehow. He thinks, that even after everything that’s happened, his soul wants to protect its brother…

Stiles allows his spark to activate.

Scott looks to Stiles and the two men share a lifetime of memories in a matter of milliseconds. Scott’s eyes fade from red to yellow as Theo’s eyes evolve from yellow to red…

“NO!” Stiles screams as he finally reaches out to break the barrier that Deaton has summoned. Just then, Deaton places a hand on Theo’s shoulder, and in an instant, the two are gone, vanished. All that’s left is a gust of wind and a few summer leaves floating in the air. Druidic magic.

Scott begins to fall, Theo’s arm no longer holding him up. Stiles rushes to catch him. “No, no, no, no, no…” he says hurriedly. Stiles ducks down to his knees just in time to catch Scott mid-fall. The once true-alpha is staring into space, losing his vision quickly.

Liam erupts in a frightening roar. His anger spews forth in a frenzied rage. He doesn’t know what he’s doing as he jumps to attack the closest thing to him… Stiles. Thankfully, Cora and Peter are quick enough to tackle and restrain the angry werewolf. It takes both of them to keep him pinned to the ground, away from their emissary.

Kira’s eyes roll back as she also begins to fall, fainting as it were. Derek is quick to catch her and hold her close. She is still conscious, but reality is strange to her right now.

Malia and Danny take hold of an unconscious Lydia while Deputy Parish rushes to Scott's side, along with Stiles.

*cough* “…Stiles…” Scott says between bloodied heaving. He reaches out a hand into nowhere, unable to see much around him.

Stiles holds Scott by the back of the head and reaches to take his hand. “I’m here buddy, I’m right here, okay. Everything will be okay…” Stiles, honest to God, tries not to lie, but he can’t help it.

Scott finally looks into Stiles eyes, having now found them. “Stiles… “ *cough*cough* “promise… me something.”

Stiles is crying hard now. He doesn’t know when the tears started, but it doesn’t matter now. “Scott, I—”

“Please, Stiles… just listen.” *cough* “I should have been there for you. I’m sorry.”

“Scott…” Stiles can’t help the tears rolling down his face.

“Please Stiles… promise me you’ll look after them, the pack. You and Derek, promise me you’ll take care of them, for me, please.” *cough*

Stiles doesn’t let go of Scott’s hand.

“Tell my mom I’m sorry… and that she should marry your dad already.” *cough*cough* “Please Stiles… for me.”

Stiles bites into his lip so hard that it starts to bleed in his mouth. “I will Scott… I promise.”

With Scott’s last breath, he smiles. “Thank you.”

…

Scott’s eyes fade into nothingness. It’s a hot summer’s day when Stiles can feel the life force leave his brother’s body.

Stiles screams in anger, “NO!” this wasn’t supposed to happen…

Stiles means to scream further, but something stops him dead in his tracks.

*thump*thump*

Stiles is silenced by loud thumping in his heart. Something is calling to him, an SOS, a cry for help. He looks beyond Scott’s body, seeing the burning eyes of Jordan Parish, they glow a fiery orange. Jordan is also struck silent, clutching his hand to his heart.

Stiles hears a guttural growl. He looks over to see his mate, Derek, clutching his heart as well, eyes glowing their brilliant crimson.

Within a matter of seconds, Stiles' eyes glow their dual-sided supernatural as well, and in a matter of a few more seconds, the shadows around the yard begin to dance once more.

Stiles, Derek, Jordan, and Stiles’ pups vanish into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).


	19. Wait...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains graphic content that may be triggering for some audiences.

When the Guardians of The Nemeton reappear from the shadows, they are standing atop the Nemeton. Stiles is panting heavily, along with the pups. Jordan is keeled over, quickly losing control of his own body. Derek is disoriented from the trip, but he quickly finds himself reaching for his mate. “Stiles…”

“I’m okay, I think.” Stiles uses Derek’s arm as leverage to stand properly. “I’ve never brought anybody else with me through the shadows… I think… my body is a little fatigued.”

“Why did you bring us here?” Derek asks quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t do it; It was her!” Stiles responds just as quick, hand outstretched for the Nemeton. “She fucking called us out here, and then all the sudden, my own fucking inner self answered her! I didn’t even know I could bring us this far!” Arms flailing aimlessly, Stiles shouts back and forth towards nothing at all. As soon as he’s done, he grabs Derek’s arm again to stable his raged breathing.

“Stiles, you need to si—” Derek is interrupted by a hurricane-like gust of wind coming from the east. Stiles, Derek, Jordan, and the pups are all lifted off the ground and thrown to the west about 25 yards into the clearing. While midair, Derek grabs hold of Stiles’ arm; using every ounce of strength he has to fight the wind, he pulls his mate close to his body. He manages to wrap himself around Stiles protectively before the two hit the ground rolling; Derek keeps one hand behind Stiles’ head in order to protect him from blunt force trauma.

As soon as the two stop rolling, Derek springs up, looking for the immediate threat; he must protect his emissary-mate at all costs. What he sees is Theo and Deaton now standing on top of the Nemeton. “It would appear as though your little parlor trick has drained quite a bit of your power, Emissary Hale.” At the sound of Deaton’s voice, Stiles slowly brings himself to stand beside his mate, still panting heavily. As he looks at Deaton, he can see the mocha colored skin start to harden and rot all at the same time. It’s turning into a tainted oak-skin right before his very eyes, as if it were the bark of a poisoned tree.

He’s becoming… a fucking Darach!

No wonder the Nemeton sought out a personal Guardian. Deaton has been draining the Nemeton all this time. “Fuck you, you sick son of a bitch!” Stiles yells.

“Ahhhh!” Jordan screams, drawing everybody’s attention. He’s keeling over, bent down on all fours, out to the side where he was thrown. A load roar erupts from the man as his body is covered in flames. Everybody looks at him astonished. All of his clothes immediately scorch to ash while his body begins to transform. His skin darkens into a dark charcoal as the flames continue to burn. His eyes glow a brilliant orange as his limbs begin to twist and turn…

Before anybody can act, Jordan Parish is fully shifted. He stands sharp on all fours. He has become a hairless, black dog… covered in flames that are the length of what a dog’s hair would be…

Instinctively, He rushes to the side of the mates, preparing for battle. The pups have surrounded Stiles in particular, in order to protect their weakened host.

“So the Nemeton has summoned a Hellhound.” Deaton says under his breath, not predominantly to anybody at all. He seems to be mauling this information over in his mind as he learns.

Derek looks at his weary mate… “Stiles… you shou—”

“I’m not leaving you.” Stiles interjects quickly. “We do this together.” With a look of determination and pride, Stiles nods at his husband.

Derek understands; he may want Stiles to be kept safe, but he knows that this moment is for the greater good. He nods back to his husband seriously, communicating with him silently. Both men turn to look at their enemy while Derek removes his leather jacket and tosses it to the ground. A crippling roar comes from Derek as he shifts into his alpha form, ripping through his jeans and t-shirt.

The Guardians now stand in formation: full wolf Derek stands in front of his mate to the left, full Hellhound Jordan stands in front of Stiles to the right, and the pups stand guard around Stiles’ immediate left, right, and flank respectively. They form an upside-down pentagram with Stiles, the only human Guardian left, in the middle.

They are, indead, a sight to behold.

“So these are the Guardians of the Nemeton,” Deaton says casually, tainted arms outstretched in front of him. “Theo, Why don’t you show our guests what kind of power you’ve attained.”

Theo simply purrs with satisfaction. It appears as though his primal instincts are beginning to take control; that explains why he has yet to speak. He steps off the Nemeton and grabs the front of his shirt with clawed hands. He rips the shirt in two, exposing his surprisingly hairy chest and abs. His eyes shine a dark, deep red and the hair along his body begins to grow and spread. Soon enough, Theo is thrashing about the air, releasing quite a bit of inhuman sounds and expressions. His body begins to twist and turn as he lowers himself to a crouched position.

Theo stands fully shifted… as… something strange. He resembles a wolf… in most ways, but, his ears, snout, and tail is that of a coyote. His jaw, eyes, claws, and torso are ferociously that of an Alpha Wolf however. Another abnormality, is that he’s large, roughly twice the size of Derek.

Stiles’ eyes widen as he realizes Theo’s true nature… “He’s a fucking chimera!” Hold on a second… “That would mean…”

“Yes, Stiles, Alpha Raeken is most certainly a chimera. And if it wasn’t for your help as a spark, he wouldn’t have been able to become an Alpha at all.” Deaton speaks, eyes closed, with a devilish grin on his face.

Shame and guilt overcome Stiles in waves. Theo was waiting for Stiles to arrive in order to murder Scott… that’s why Deaton was keeping his dad hostage… so that Stiles would return… the Pack walked right into his plan…

“No…” Stiles says quietly. It’s all his fault… again.

Deaton opens his eyes to reveal dark green irises covered in smokey movement. “Yes,” he says seductively. “And now, you will all die here, in sacrifice to the Nemeton.”

Derek howls courageously. The call of war has been sung. He will not stand by as his mate is insulted or threatened. Jordan and the pups join in quickly, their long necks pointed to the rise of the moon over the treetops of the preserve. Their voices echo in the forest clearing as an omen of righteous fury. The ground shakes, the air ripples, and the life of the land rises to the occasion.

Stiles is in awe. Any worry or doubt is washed away by the voices of the wilderness. He looks upward to meet the moon’s gaze. Power washes over him as the early twilight bathes him in a mother’s love of the lunar goddess. He closes his eyes for a moment, and then, he can hear the voice of the Nemeton within his soul.

_Go now, my child. Protect your home._

As Stiles opens his eyes, the battle cry comes to an end. The Guardians turn to look at their enemy as one; each of their eyes are glowing a bright supernatural. The pups now have the same eyes as Stiles, a dual-sided savagery within them.

“Deaton is mine.” Stiles says with a venom he never realized he had. As such, he rushes headfirst into action. The rest of the Guardians keep tight to their formation.

Theo meets their charge with equal ferocity. Dashing straight for Stiles. Jordan, as a Guardian, maintains some sort of link, or bond, to the mates and sync into their mindset immediately. Both Derek and Jordan run right past Theo as Stiles approaches the fully shifted Chimera. Just as Theo pounces upward, opening his jaws to rip into the spark, Stiles coats himself in a generous amount of floating shadows. As the two meet, fangs to exposed neck, Theo bites down harsh, right into thin air…

Stiles literally runs straight through him, as if he were a ghost…

Theo turns around quickly to see Stiles continuing his dash towards his true target, Deaton. Now, however, he also sees Derek and Jordan staring him down directly in front of him. The three pups now flank him to his immediate left, right, and rear. They’ve replaced him for the center of their formation. He’s surrounded… trapped. He releases a pain-staking roar. Stiles keeps running.

As Stiles approaches the Nemeton, with Deaton still standing atop, Deaton raises his hands in the summoning of power. Electricity begins to crackle and dance around him. The dark Druid pulls his hands together quickly, before pushing outwards, releasing a strong lightening bolt directly towards Stiles.

Understanding the movement, Stiles halts himself to a stop and braces for impact. He pivots to the side slightly to extend his left hand out in front of him, palm out. As the lightening reaches him, it disappears into nothingness. When the stream of power is gone, Stiles pivots the opposite direction to extend his right hand out in front of him, palm out. The bolt of lightening returns, moving the opposite direction now.

Deaton throws both hands towards the trunk of the Nemeton quickly, and right before the lightening strikes, a solid block of earth rises from the ground in front of him, catching the blow. The earth shatters and explodes outward.

“I can do this all day old man.” Stiles shouts victoriously. Behind him, he can hear the raged battle going on between Theo and the others. It sounds terrifying.

“Ahh, but can you, truly?” Deaton responds quickly. “Exactly how much raw power can your body sustain? You may have gained control of you spark, as well as your void, but you are not invincible.”

Stiles chuckles. “And exactly how long can you force this land to do things that it doesn’t want to do, hu? Surly, such dark magic can’t go on forever, can it? I wonder, which one of us will slip up first…”

“We shall see.” Deaton stands to continue on.

…

The battle rages on for what seems like eternity. Time is strange. Thankfully, all the training with Alex has paid off. Every time Deaton attacks with something new, Stiles either slips out of the way nimbly, or throws it right back: fireballs, spiked icicles, bladed winds, fucking boulders. Every time Stiles gets close enough to strike Deaton hand-to-hand, Deaton slips away with a gust of wind.

“PUSSY!” Stiles yells out.

Both men are panting heavily. The match seems even enough, but unfortunately, Stiles starts slowing down at some point. The instances in which he closes the distance are becoming fewer and fewer.

“Tell me, Emissary Hale, who will protect this land when you’re all gone, sacrificed to the Nemeton?” Deaton asks in a means to distract Stiles.

“Fuck you, that’s who!” Stiles retorts effortlessly.

Deaton slams his foot on the ground and the earth beneath starts to rumble. Stiles is too focused on keeping his footing to see the quick bolt of lightening coming his way. He manages to jump out of the way just in time, but the tree behind him shatters and erupts. The explosion knocks Stiles further forward and he plummets into the dirt.

When Stiles looks up, Deaton is down on one knee, breathing harshly. He then looks backwards towards the tree that just burst out. ‘That poor tree,’ he thinks to himself.

‘Wait…’

“What if the land… could protect the land…” Stiles finally says out loud.

**  
 _Alex: You have both, a space to limitlessly create life, and a space to limitlessly consume life within your very soul._  
**

Just then, he stands, and as he stands, he is coated in a generous amount of floating shadows once more. His eyes sustain their brilliant dual-sided supernatural as every shockwave of Deaton’s magic passes right through him. He lifts his arms in prayer, as he is slowly lifted off the ground. He looks up to the sky, asking for the power to bring life to the land.

In a burst of raw energy, Stiles cries out into the open air, arms and legs stretched out as far as they can go. All of the trees surrounding the clearing begin to shake and shudder… and out of nowhere… the trees come to life! Their trunks are uprooted out of the ground as their actual roots twist and turn into the shape of legs. Their branches twist and turn into the shape of arms. Their treetops twist and turn into the shape of faceless heads.

All at once, the Ents move in towards the Nemeton. Deaton freezes in fear… there are so many of them…

Stiles drops to the floor. His eyes return to their honey-amber as he slowly losses consciousness. The last thing he sees is one of the Ents stepping over him, headed towards Deaton.

——

Stiles opens his eyes slowly, very slowly. His body aches in places he didn’t even know he had. When he finally comes to, the night sky is out, constellations of stars paint the view of serenity and purity. Stiles looks up to see a small formation of Ents surrounding the Nemeton, guarding it. The rest of the Ents must have made their way into the preserve. He slowly picks himself up and walks over to the closest Ent being and lays his hand on it. The smile that permeates his face is a smile of humility and love. He did it.

*cough*

Stiles freezes in place, eyes wide. He would recognize that voice from anywhere… bloodied or clear…

*cough*cough*

Stiles whips his head to the direction of the sound. What he sees is his worst nightmare come true…

There lying on the floor, is a beaten down, naked, human, blood-soaked Derek Hale. His left arm has been ripped out and is no where to be seen. The rest of his body is covered in deep gouges made by claws and fangs. The pups are also ripped apart, clay and half-made limbs are scattered about. Stiles doesn’t see Jordan anywhere, but then again, he isn’t actually looking. His eyes are transfixed on his mate.

With the energy that Stiles absolutely does not have, he runs to his dying husband. He hits his knees hard as he reaches for the man with both arms, gripping him tightly.

“…Stiles…” Derek says breathlessly.

“Shut up you fucking idiot! Save your strength!” Stiles cries out. Tears are running down his face like a river before he can even breathe.

Derek turns his head slightly to see his mate. His eyes shine a sorrowful beta blue when they meet the eyes of their lover. Theo has stolen his Alpha Spark. “Stiles…”

“No, _no_ no _no_ no **NO**! This can’t be happening! Please Derek, stay with me!” Stiles cries out once more; every other word is as equally a plea as it is a demand.

“Stiles.” Derek says with finality. “I love yo—”

“NO! Don’t you dare fucking tell me you love me! Don’t give up on me Derek! I can’t do this without you!” Stiles cries as Derek’s eyes fade from blue to their human hazel. “You’re not going to die here Derek Hale! You’re going to fucking live! You’re going to fucking live and we’re going to fucking be together forever! You hear me Derek!.”

A single tear rolls down Derek’s face as he listens to the soothing voice of Mieczyslaw Hale.

“We’re going to have a big family, okay! We’re going to have children! We’re going to rebuild your old house and we’re all going to live in it like one big happy fucking family! We’re going to have the white picket fence and the fucking blue shutters and the fucking dog who fetches the paper GOD DAMNIT!” Stiles holds Derek tightly to his body now, slotting his head into his neck as he rocks them back and forth. “You promised, Derek! You promised you’d never let go of me!”

As Stiles pulls apart, he sees the lifeless eyes of Derek Hale staring into nothingness. It’s a cold summer’s night when Stiles can feel the life force leave his mate’s body.

“NOOOOOOO!” Stiles cries out into the despair that is now his heart.

Stiles means to scream further, but something stops him dead in his tracks.

As he wraps Derek’s face with his hands, he notices his hands are completely coated in blood. First, the dried blood of his brother, then, the fresh blood of his lover. He pulls his hands away from Derek, staring at his palms. There is so much blood on his fingers.

All twelve of them…

… wait …

…all twelve of them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).


	20. Another Letter From The Author

Dear Readers,

Wow, just… wow. I’m not going to lie to you; this story has become something that I never expected it could become. The amount of Love and support I have received is absolutely outstanding!

You will all be happy to know that I have FINALLY finished my outline for the rest of this fic. What started, originally, as a 10 chapter fic has inevitably become a 30 chapter fic. Keeping to my theme of honesty… I will tell you that I had intended to end this work after chapter 9: Stop Holding Back, but when I was writing my ending, there was too much story left untold. So I extending it by another 10 chapters. BUT THEN, when I was finally writing my ending after Chapter 19: Wait…, there was STILL too much story left untold.

So, I sat down and wrote a COMPLETE ending… but that’s not actually why I’m writing this final letter.

I’m writing to you now for two reasons:

Firstly, I purposely left a lot of moments out of this work; moments that are implied, but not actually written. I know many of you can guess some of these moments, such as all of the individual conversations between members of the Hale Pack and members of the McCall Pack, between chapters 13 and 16. I did not include such details for very specific reasons that ultimately apply to literary developments such as foreshadowing and dramatic irony.

I do, however, have a few of these *in*between* chapters written… The first one being the Alex/Peter/Christiano sex scene (also known as Chapter 8.5). Unfortunately, there is not a space for these *in*between* chapters in _A New Life_. So, I would like to announce to you all that I will be making a separate “work” for these chapters called _Moments In Between ‘A New Life’_.

I will publish the first entry for _Moments In Between ‘A New Life’_ as soon as the last chapter of _A New Life_ has been published. If you choose to read them, that is entirely up to you. _A New Life_ is a stand-alone story and _Moments In Between ‘A New Life’_ is NOT going to be a continuation. Chapter 30 of _A New Life_ will be the end. Periodt.

Secondly… well… I kind of wanted to ask you a favor…

So, umm, I started looking for pictures to include in _Moments In Between ‘A New Life’_. Initially, I wanted to just show you some pictures of people/scenery that inspired some of the characters and environments that I created. I found pictures of Alex, Christiano, and their kids. I also found pictures of the pups and Stiles’ Ents. I also collected pictures of the Colorado mountains as well as several hot springs that were the settings of the first nine chapters.

However… it was VERY hard to narrow down each idea to ONE photo, because one photo really could not capture the exact ‘moment’ I ended up writing…

So… getting to the point… out of the THOUSANDS of hits I’ve gotten on this fic, I JUST KNOW that you guys are some talented mother fuckers… 

I hereby formally request that if you guys would like to draw/photoshop/animate/paint/whatever some fanart for this fic, would you please submit it to anewlifefanart@gmail.com. I want to post your submissions on _Moments In Between ‘A New Life’_ , with your permission of course (I will credit everybody unless you tell me not to).

You can create whatever you want! I want to see it all! Show me your favorite moments from the story! Show me any character you want! Show me Stiles’ and Derek’s wedding rings! Show me Stiles’ new look! Show me the fights scenes! SHOW ME THE SEX SCENES; I DON’T CARE! There are also moments throughout chapter 21-30 that I think a lot of you will really enjoy!

If I do not receive any submissions, I am going to post all of the pictures I’ve collected on my own. So, don’t feel pressured!

All in all, I wanted to thank you all for your continued support, as well as your patience, while I finish up our story! I’m looking forward to sharing _Moments In Between ‘A New Life’_ with you and I hope that you guys have moments of _A New Life_ to share with me!

Peace & Blessings,  
-The Author

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please include any social media tags with submissions if you would like the credit.


	21. It's Your Friend, Dad; He's In Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

Alex wakes up with a shocking gasp.

“Alejandro!?” Christiano asks quickly while he is awoken in a panic. His emissary-mate is covered in sweat and his heartrate is sky high. Alex has not woken up in such a frenzied state for many years.

“Stiles thinks Derek has been killed.” Alex says breathily. Christiano looks at him with worry on his face. “I saw it this time. It was an actual vision. Stiles is caught in a nightmare and I saw everything… I don’t ever see it with my own eyes… my father was the shaman, he was the visionary; I’ve never—” just then, Alex has a sudden realization. At the same time, Christiano realizes that his mate’s bond isn’t the only one in disarray. Alex throws his right hand through the air, as if to cut off a spell or enchantment.

Immediately, the soundproofing enchantments are deactivated from the house and both men can hear the screaming coming from Juliana’s room. Alex turns to look at his mate, “The twins are stuck in the vision!” As Christiano rushes out of the bed with superhuman speed, Alex throws another hand into the air, forcing the door open for his mate. “Use the Alpha voice to wake Juliana; I’ll get Julian!”

Alex rushes out of the bed as well. When he makes it to the bedroom door, he has just enough time to see a shifted Christiano propel himself all the way from the living room floor, up to the second story balcony next to the bedrooms. Alex makes his way to the stairs, running as quickly as he can. He knows that Daichi and Alicia have woken up to their younger sister’s screaming now that they can hear it. Knowing that the two can’t see him, but they can hear him, he speaks to them both. “Daichi, help your Alpha; Alicia, you’re with me.”

By now, Alex has made his way up to the second floor. He sees a blur of movement run into Juliana’s room, Daichi; Christiano would have already reached her. As he opens Julian’s door, he hears his mate’s alpha voice call out, “Juliana!” Alex continues into his son’s room unbothered, but Alicia, who is right behind him now, hesitates as she hears Juliana gasp loudly. With a rush of raw, magical power, both Christiano and Daichi are thrown across the room and hit the wall loudly.

Alex is now crouched over Julian. His face is furrowed and his eyes are twitching under his eyelids, but he isn’t afraid. “He knows it’s a vision…” Alex says under his breath. He looks to the daughter that is beside him now. “Alicia, I’m going to lift his head up and I want you to sit crisscrossed on his pillow. I’m going to lay his head down on your lap and you’re going to draw his pain away, okay?” Alicia nods dutifully. They presume easily and Alex can not help but feel mountains of pride. This would be Julian’s first vision as a shaman; he is handling it so well.

Alex can see small black vines working up Alicia’s hands while she holds her brother’s head in her lap. She squints her eyes in pain, but continues on. Just then, Alex turns around to see Daichi walking through the door. He is carrying Juliana bridal style and she is clutching him tightly, still shaking. Christiano follows behind them with a hand on Daichi’s shoulder. Alex gives his mate a curious look. “After we hit the wall, Daichi here recovered and made it to his sister before I did,” Christiano says with a proud look on his face. Daichi’s face is stoic and utterly focused. Alex looks at him fondly.

“Is he okay?” Daichi asks while continuing to hold his sister.

Alex nods, “Yes, he is okay. He has accepted the vision and right now, he speaks to the spirits.” Christiano looks shocked…

All eyes turn to Julian, even Juliana’s, who has turned her head to look at her twin. His lips are moving softly, but no sound is coming out. Magic can be felt in the air.

Julian wakes with a gasp, sitting up quickly. His eyes are wide as they dart around to everyone, then land on Alex. “It’s your friend, dad; he’s in danger.”

A single tear rolls down Alex’s face as he hears his son speak those prophetic words. He grabs his face and holds him closely to his chest. “I know mijo, I know.”

——

Julian and Juliana are cuddled up closely to Alex in the master bedroom. Alicia is sitting on the edge of the bed while Daichi is standing next to her. Christiano walks into the bedroom with his phone in hand. “I just finished speaking to Alpha Hale. He believes that his mate is stuck in the dream. He told me that Stiles expended an extraordinary amount of magic and that his body is weak. He doesn’t have the strength to pull himself out.”

“He’s stuck in that nightmare!?” Juliana asks with fear spread across her face.

“I don’t think it’s a natural dream,” Julian says. “It felt like a dreamscape, something made up, constructed by somebody else. It reminded me of the spirit world; it wasn’t a part of me, I was a part of it.”

Alex holds both children close to his body and shuts his eyes… he knows what’s about to happen.

“You think somebody trapped him in there on purpose!?” Juliana practically shouts. “We have to get him out! Dad, we have to help him!”

Alex releases a slow breath, “I will go to him.”

“We’re going with you!” Juliana says.

Alex turns to look at his daughter, “Juliana, mija, I know you feel passionately about this, but Beacon Hills is a dangerous place.”

Julian speaks up, in his sister’s place, “There’s a reason all three of us received the vision. The spirits of Beacon Hills are calling out to us. Besides, how do you think you’ll pull Stiles out of his dream on your own? You won’t be able to draw on anybody’s power to amplify your magical reserves, and, you’ll be too far away from the territory to use the magic of the land. You shouldn’t use the magic of Beacon Hills, it’s tainted.”

Alex looks at his son in utter defeat. Julian will become an incredible emissary one day. He knows far too much for a child his age. Alex wonders if his dad used to feel this way about him…

Alex looks to his mate.

Christiano nods in acceptance, “I know you would never let anything happen to them. They will need to learn what life outside of this territory is like sooner or later.” Christiano chuckles, “think about the kind of life we had at their age.”

Alex sighs… “Alicia, Daichi, you will remain here to protect our home. I will speak to Maricella; she will fulfill the role of emissary in our absence.”

“I’ve already told Alpha Hale you would leave for Beacon Hills shortly.” Christiano says proudly.

Alex looks at his mate with loving eyes. Christiano may be an Alpha, but he supports his mate as if he is an equal.

This is going to be one hell of a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going along the timeline, Daichi is 14, Alicia is 13, and the twins are 12 now. It's been about two years since the mating ritual, but The Hale pack (including Stiles) lived in Colorado for several months before that; so its been about 2 and a half years since we first met the kids. We're just gonna say that they all had a third birthday in those six months...


	22. Derek, It Felt So Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

**Last Night**

After the battle in the preserve, Derek carries Stiles back to the loft to rest. Now that the McCall pack is technically no more, Derek decides that there is no need to remain in hiding. Cora also returns to the loft. Peter takes Malia to his town home in the city, well… ‘her’ town home. Jordan and Danny take Lydia to Jordan’s house. Jordan, after reverting back to himself, began regaining all of his memories as a hellhound and a Guardian of the Nemeton. Kira takes Liam away somewhere… they are apparently going to deliver the news to Melissa…

As Derek and Cora arrive at the loft with Stiles, they initially think that he is simply exhausted, so Derek lays him down in his bed. It’s funny, actually, the last time the three of them had arrived at the loft together was when the Hale Pack rescued Stiles, Stiles was passed out from exhaustion, so Derek had carried him into the loft and laid him in his bed… history seems to repeat itself…

If only Derek could have known what was happening, all over again, within Stiles’ dreams… It isn’t until Derek is in the shower, washing away the blood and grime from his battle with Theo, that the screaming starts.

Derek and Cora both hear it loud and clear; it is horrendous. Stiles is screaming bloody murder. It’s a gut-wrenching screaming that pierce the walls of the concrete loft as if the sound of thunder was resonating within the cracks of the foundation; it creates an orchestral sound of a real-life horror.

Derek, in a reasonable panic, sprints out of the shower and arrives back in the bedroom completely naked. Cora had also made her way to the bedroom quickly and looked for the immediate threat. As it turns out, the only threat in the room… is whatever is inside Stiles’ head…

Derek’s wolf is in complete disarray. It can’t understand what’s happening. Why is Stiles in so much ‘pain’… and why won’t he WAKE THE FUCK UP!? No matter how many times Derek howls and screams for his mate, the emissary will not wake up.

Derek lays in his old bed now, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, holding Stiles tightly to his body, siphoning the pain as it comes. The pain… is unbearable. It starts with an alarming fear that Derek has never experienced before; and that, is saying something. Once the growing fear reaches its climax, the heartache comes… If Derek is able to read the pain accurately, the only way he could describe it is as if Stiles is dying… a literal death; that’s what it feels like.

Nothing Derek had ever felt could compare to the pain in Stiles’ mind: the guilt of killing Paige Krasikeva, the responsibility for the burning of his family, the betrayal of Kate Argent, the death of Erica Reyes… the murder of Vernon Boyd…

None of it compares to the pain Stiles is going through in his sleep. As Derek siphons as much pain as he can, he starts to feel his body shut down. It’s shutting down physically, emotionally, spiritually. There are a few moments when the pain is too much, and Derek begins to pass out. He stops drawing the pain at those points, for respite, but as soon as he can see straight, he starts right back over. When will it end; what’s going on?

Thankfully, the unbarring pain only lasts for a few hours. Derek doesn’t know what happens, but the pain is bearable now. He can keep the siphon running consistently, without break. A few hours later, Cora, who is standing guard right outside the bedroom, steps inside. She is holding her phone out for Derek.

Christiano is on the line. Alex had received a vision of whatever Stiles is going through; he is on his way to Beacon Hills. Derek cries.

——

**The Present**

Derek has not slept; it’s been 20 hours now. He and Stiles are still laying in the bed. Stiles is still asleep. In one of Derek’s more ‘conscious’ moments, Derek realizes that the loft is full of people. Nobody has tried to enter the bedroom except for Cora and Peter.

Derek faintly hears another car pull up to the loft. A few car doors open and close. Three steady heartbeats stay still in the parking lot. “Be respectful.” _Alex is here._ “Do not speak until the Alpha gives you permission; an emissary is the only exception to that rule, as well as another alpha, if he was with us.” Who did Alex bring with him? “Such customaries may not be necessary with the Hale Pack, but you will find that other packs will be offended if you disrespect them; and you, mija, no little tricks on anybody. Keep your… _hands_ to yourself.”

Mija… (?)

“Understood.” The twins say in unison.

Derek widens his eyes as he lays in bed. The twins are also here.

There is a knock on the front door of the loft in no time at all. There is a large ruckus in the loft from many people. From where he is in the bedroom, Derek can hear the large metal door slide open and the conversation that follows. “Greetings of Peace & Blessings Cora Hale. I, emissary of the Flores Pack, have come to—”

“Spare the formalities, Alex. They need you.” Cora interrupts. Derek is pleased in his second; she is right. “Follow me, I’ll take you to him.”

“I will need the twins’ assistance. I hope you don’t mind if they join us.” Alex says. There are several mumbled whispers happening in the loft now.

“That’s fine, whatever you need.” Cora responds easily. Derek can hear footsteps and they all start to move, gradually moving closer to the bedroom.

Cora knocks on the door. “Come in,” Derek says softly, still holding Stiles tightly to his body. If it wasn’t for Cora and Peter, Derek would have gone full Alpha mode already. It’s taking what little composure he has left to remain human at the moment.

Derek’s guests enter the room as he turns to look. Alex looks a little tired. He smells like tense muscles and car sweat. He must have driven all the way on his own. If he made the trip in just one full day, then he must have done a straight dive, only stopping for gas every several hours or so. The twins are the spitting image of their father, simply shorter than he is.

Julian isn’t wearing Alex’s signature French braid; his hair is done in a half-up, Dutch braid. He looks more lively than his father. Surly, he was able to sleep for some of the drive. Looking into the young shaman’s eyes, Derek sees a serious nature that surpasses his father. He looks wise beyond his age. Where Alex excels in knowledge, Julian excels in wisdom. He smells of vanilla citrus and oakwood. Close to a druid, but softer, perceptive.

Juliana also looks energetic. Then again, she has always had an animated spirit. Her hair is fully down, no braids. The look in her eyes reminds Derek of crazy uncle Peter… mischievous. Upon further inspection, Derek picks up the smell of when the air drops in the forest. You know that moment right before a storm hits, that’s what Juliana smells like. She will be a beauty, and a phenomenal force of nature, when she grows into mature witch-hood. It didn’t take long for Derek to realize that she possesses the most ‘raw power’ in her family, comparable only to Alpha Flores.

“Alpha Hale…” Alex says tentatively. All three humans expose their necks in submission.

Derek flashes his eyes their beautiful Crimson. He nods his head respectfully. He has yet to let go of Stiles as he speaks. “Thank you for coming.” He says softly. “Julian, Juliana.” He says professionally before giving the twins a gentle nod.

They nod back humbly. “Alpha Hale,” Alex continues, “I would like for Julian to take a look at Stiles, if you would allow. He is going to locate Stiles’ spirit so that we make wake him up.” Julian begins to step closer to the bed but halts as Derek growls lowly and flashes his eyes at the boy. Alex makes his way forward to speak, but Julian reaches out a hand to stop him. “Alpha Hale,” the boy says, “I promise you, no additional harm will come to your mate. I believe that Stiles is stuck in a nightmarish dreamscape, and I need to locate his spirit if we are to pull him out.”

Derek stops growling long enough to listen to the boy’s heart. He’s telling the truth. Derek doesn’t have a reason to doubt him, it’s just his nature as an Alpha to protect his mate at all costs. Reluctantly, Derek untangles himself from Stiles’ body and slips out of bed. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Please do not apologize, Alpha Hale,” Julian says confidently. “I understand.”

Derek relaxes just a small bit further. It’s true, they do understand; Derek is grateful. Derek turns to look at Alex now. With a flick of his wrists, Alex enchants the room and all the sounds within the loft are silenced. They cannot hear outside of this room, and everybody in the loft can no longer hear inside of the room. God bless this family. They know the struggle. They understand privacy.

Julian sits down on the bed and rests his hand on Stiles’ forehead. His eyes begin to flicker and shift, half-lidded. Alex turns to Derek to speak. “Please, Alpha Hale, could you explain exactly what has happened since you arrived in Beacon Hills? Don’t leave anything out.”

Cora steps out of the room.

Derek’s voice is hoarse as he begins to tell the story. “It started when we were driving into town; Peter got a text from Malia…”

…

“After all the trees came to life, Stiles passed out. Deaton and Theo escaped by using the same magic that took them away from the Hale house. I picked Stiles up and brought him here. It was about an hour later when the screaming started.” Derek finishes with a sigh.

Alex rubs his chin thoughtfully before he speaks, “Hmm, I see.” Juliana has taken a seat by her brother and is holding his shoulder in support. She is probably sharing her power with him. The magic of the Flores men isn’t meant to be used in practical methods that are drawn out over time. Their magic is short and sweet.

“Well,” Alex continues, “I cannot say for certain, because my power is weakened here in Beacon Hills, but I believe that this Dr. Deaton has created a rather specific dreamscape for Stiles.” with this information, Derek growls harshly. “Not only is this particular emissary responsible for creating the void within Stiles, but he was also acutely aware of the illness that troubled Stiles’ mind after the Nogitsune possession. It would be easy for this Darach to recreate disturbing memories within a dreamscape… a personally constructed imprisonment for the Spark that stands in his way of the Nemeton’s power…”

Derek is half shifted at this point, clutching his hands in a tight fist. “I’m going to kill him,” he says aggressively between gritted teeth. His claws draw blood in his hands.

“Found him!” Julian says victoriously. Derek turns to see the young Shaman. He has beads of sweat running down his face but his youthful smile lights up the room. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget how young the twins are. They are far too capable to be drained so easily.

Julian turns to his father. “We need to pull him out soon,” he says seriously.

Alex nods before he turns to his daughter, “the table, mija.”

“Right! Of course!” Juliana practically leaps out of her seat on the bed. She stands in an open space in the room with her hands together in prayer. She mumbles something incoherent under her breath. It sounds like some of Alex’s spellwork, with a bit of Latin mixed in.

Suddenly, she’s gone, vanished. ‘Fucking magicians,’ Derek thinks to himself. She’s back in a matter of seconds, holding a large wooden suitcase. She dutifully unwraps the contraption and unfolds it. Within no time at all, a massage table stands in the open space.

“Derek, will you please bring Stiles here and lay him face-up on the table.” Alex instructs nimbly. Derek makes his way to the bed and does as he is asked. “Very good. Now, please stand close by; I have a feeling he will need you as soon as he wakes up.”

Derek nods. Alex makes his way to the head of the table, standing above Stiles head. Julian stands by Stiles to the left while Juliana stands on Stiles’ right. “Now, Julian will guide my spirit towards Stiles, once I find him, I will pull him out of his dream. All the while, Juliana will support us magically. Think of her as our power source for the moment.”

“Thank you,” is all Derek can think to say.

Alex looks to his children before he takes both of their hands. The twins grab hold of each other’s hands over Stiles’ chest. The three of them are connected in a triangle. “I’m so proud of you two,” Alex says tenderly, looking at his children fondly.

The twins share a small smile before all three of them close their eyes and begin to chant under their breath. It’s another ethereal moment, a mix between Spanish and Native American tongues.

For Derek, the anticipation forces time to move far too slowly, but eventually, Stiles jolts awake with a large intake of breath and a flash of his double-sided eyes; the twins slowly move back. The first thing he does is whiplash directly to look at his hands.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10…

Stiles then turns to Derek. Both men have water building behind their eyes. Derek doesn’t move close yet. He doesn’t want to startle his mate.

“Derek…” Stiles whispers out.

“It’s me,” Derek responds, “I’m here.”

The tears building behind Stiles’ eyes rush forth like a hurricane finally reaching shore. The smell of salty relief fills the air as Derek rushes to his mate. Stiles begins to cry hard. “Oh my God, Derek, it felt so real!” Stiles is wailing at this point, taking hard breaths between each word.

“I’ve got you Stiles.” Derek is crying too. Holding the meaning of his own life close to his body. “I love you Mieczyslaw Hale, and I will never let go of you.”

The mates hold one another as they cry their sorrows away.

——

Derek and Stiles take a shower together. It isn’t a sexual shower; it’s something that is subconsciously symbolic. As the water runs over both their bodies, dark memories and unreal reflections escape into the drain as reality starts to set in. Derek keeps Stiles close; his protective instincts are placating, but the need to express his love is taking over. Derek’s hands caress every inch of the fair polish skin before him with smooth cleansers and doting emotions. Stiles’ body becomes lax under the careful restoration of Alpha Hale.

“I love you,” Stiles mumbles into the water, eyes closed. Derek slowly places himself in front of his mate, grabs his chin gently, and allows his crimson eyes to shine brightly in front of honey-amber eyes. _I love you_ , Derek’s eyes say.

When the shower is done, both men change into comfortable clothes and head back out to the bedroom. It’s silent, but Stiles can feel multiple life forces in the loft. “Did Alex enchant the room?” he asks.

Derek chuckles, “Yes, he did.”

“For how long…” Stiles says suggestively.

Derek moves in and grabs Stiles by the ass, pulling him close. “Why, should we have taken more time in the shower?” Derek asks seductively.

Stiles moans into Derek’s hold, placing his hands on the werewolf’s chest. “No, it’s okay. Maybe we can revisit this silenced bedroom later.” Stiles says softly with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Stiles is such a dork. Derek is glad to see him recovering so quickly. “But for now, we have a loft full of people that are probably waiting to see me.” Stiles rolls his eyes and releases himself from Derek’s hold. “Ugh…”

“Are you sure? I can send them away if you need time to recover… from… the umm…” Derek stumbles to speak.

“The nightmare prison.” Stiles finishes for him. Derek looks at his mate solemnly. “No, I’m okay,” Stiles sighs. “It didn’t take long to realize it was a dream, and then I knew it was a magical construction when I tried to use my spark to wake up, but I couldn’t.” Stiles shakes his head at the memories. “It was hard, but I’m okay.” Derek moves back in to hold his mate in a loving embrace. Stiles breathes deeply as he speaks, “It was different this time.” Stiles turns to look into Derek’s eyes once more. “I knew you were waiting for me on the other side.”

They share a kiss that speaks more words than either of them are capable of.

When the kiss breaks, Stiles takes a focusing intake of breath. With determination he says, “I need to speak to Alex.” Derek nods in acceptance.

As soon as the couple opens the door to leave the bedroom, a soft rumble of sounds returns to the loft. Cora is standing guard by the door. Derek lays a hand on her shoulder in gratitude, “thank you Cora.” Cora nods before making her way to Stiles for a longing hug. Stiles doesn’t need to speak. He understands. This is pack. Cora then slips away to the kitchen.

When the two make their way to the open space of the loft, Derek can see just about everybody. Alex is sitting on a small recliner with the twins, engrossed in conversation with Jordan and Lydia. Malia is close to Peter’s side; they’re talking to Chris. Cora and Isaac are doing something in the kitchen, hopefully mating, but Derek is going to assume they are preparing food that just arrived, if the smell is anything to go by. Danny and Jackson are sitting with Kira and Liam. A surprising addition of attendance, but Derek remembers Alpha McCall’s last words to Stiles: _promise me you’ll look after them, the pack. You and Derek, promise me you’ll take care of them, for me, please._

Everybody in the room silence themselves in respect for the mate’s return to society. Stiles is the one to draw everybody’s attention by clapping his hands together. “Well, I would like to formally thank everybody for your support. I know that all of your instincts would be heightened right now and it’s important for everybody to be close.”

The room looks solemn; the loss of Alpha McCall is a hard reality to accept.

Derek speaks with a gravity that commands the room. “As alpha of the Hale Pack, I hereby swear to you all that I will protect this territory, it’s people, and those remaining of the McCall pack. The memory and tribute of Alpha McCall to this land and it’s residents will not be forgotten.” Stiles nods in languish for all to see. “As a result of recent events, I formally extend an invitation for any former member of the McCall pack to live peacefully within Beacon Hills, under Hale protection. If you would like, I also formally extend an invitation for anybody involved in the current conditions to join the Hale Pack officially, as we will be residing here from now on.” Everybody releases a slow breath to process Derek’s offer.

Both Christopher and Peter look a combination of pleased and proud. Chris looks over to Isaac in the kitchen who looks back in return. They speak to one another silently with a nod. “Alpha Hale,” Chris says, “I am pleased to learn that you are taking residence here once more to protect your family’s land. With the hunter clans gone for now, it’s reassuring to know that the respectable name of the Hales will be here for those in need.”

Jackson chuckles from where he is sitting with Danny. “Let’s not forget the entire magical army of trees, I mean Damn Stilinksi.”

“It’s Hale now asshole!” Stiles shouts back, but there is no real anger behind it.

“Nah, you can be married and mated to Derek all you want, you’re still Stilinksi in my book.” Jackson says mockingly while Stiles rolls his eyes. Danny nudges Jackson in the side for his insults but it doesn’t have any effect. Derek simply smirks; he should be upset, but he understands Jackson’s compliment. Jackson isn’t the kind of guy to JUST compliment somebody.

Derek looks to his mate in admiration. He truly did bring the preserve to life in order to protect it. Now, Theo and Deaton will have a difficult time drawing power from the Nemeton since they can’t get to it directly.

“About that…” Stiles says shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“The trees reverted back to their natural state once everything was safe.” Peter answers Stiles’ unasked question. “I think it’s safe to assume there won’t be any Ents walking around town unless a catastrophe comes around.”

Stiles releases a reassured breath.

Malia is the first one to walk up to Derek. Everybody pauses for whatever is about to happen. “I want to join the pack.” She says, short and sweet. Jesus, Malia and Cora in the same pack… that will be interesting. Neither care much for many words. Peter seems to be the only Hale who actually enjoys a stimulating conversation. It is a kind sentiment to have all the Hales together again though.

Derek nods respectfully and rests a hand on her shoulder. As both of their eyes flash, the bond is created. Everybody in the room releases a breath they didn’t realize they were holding.

Danny and Jackson stand together, holding hands. It would be idiotic to hide their relationship in a room full of people who can smell their combined scents. They make their way up to Derek. “We want in too,” Jackson says. He looks over to his boyfriend and they exchange a knowing look. Jackson turns back to Derek with a slight blush on his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t accept you as my alpha when you turned me; I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Stiles heart soars with pride at the touching reunion of bonds.

As Danny and Jackson are finishing up with Derek, Isaac makes his way up to Chris. Chris lays a firm hand on the young wolf’s shoulder and gives an assuring nod. Isaac then makes his way up to Derek, looking at the ground and speaking softly. “I’m sorry I left…” he says shyly. “I ran away because I was afraid; it was a cowardly thing to do.”

Derek takes pity on the young wolf. “I was a terrible alpha to you, Isaac. If I could go back and change things I would.” Isaac then looks up to Derek with embarrassment on his face. “I should have protected, and loved, you all. I didn’t. If I had, then Erica and Boyd wouldn’t have left.” A single tear runs down Isaac’s face at the mention of his former pack mates. “If you would allow me to try again, I would like to be the alpha you deserve.”

Isaac’s tears are picking up as he nods gently. Derek rests a hand on his shoulder just as he did for the previous three, and with a flash of eyes, the once broken bond is mended.

“AWW!” Stiles shouts as he rushes up to Isaac to give him a motherly hug. “Softiewolf is pack again! I missed you, you know.” Isaac chuckles into Stiles shoulder.

Lydia allows the two to dote before walking up to Derek in her heels. “You, Alpha Hale, have turned my last two years into a major inconvenience by taking away the one person in this forsaken town who could actually challenge my character and make me a better person.” she chastises as she brings out an honesty that nobody expected. She turns to Stiles as she continues, her voice a bit softer, “I understand you left because you needed to, and I forgive you, if it’s any consultation. From now on though, you have to go shopping with me at least once a week; and we have to work together as the researchers and strategists of Beacon Hill’s supernatural community. Got it?”

“Once a week!?” Stiles groans. “Tell you what, I’ll watch The Notebook with you once a week, and I’ll promise you a shopping trip once a month. I think that’s a manageable compromise.”

Lydia presses a carefully manicured fingertip to the bow of her lips before speaking again. She smiles as she goes in for the next hug, “Deal.” When the two are done, Lydia turns to Derek with a determined nod. Derek chuckles as he lays a hand on her shoulder and flashes his eyes, creating yet another bond.

Lydia makes her way back to Jordan who is standing now. He grabs Lydia’s hand gently as he speaks, “As much as I admire and respect your decision, Alpha Hale, this is all a bit new to me. I would like to understand my place in this world before I commit myself to the pack. When the Sheriff returns to work, and things go back to normal, maybe we can talk about it further.”

Stiles is now reminded of his father who was taken to the hospital, although he doesn’t speak. Derek feels his trepidation through the mating bond. “Of course, Deputy Parish. I understand that you still have a responsibility to the law, and the citizens of Beacon Hills. The Nemeton is safe for the time being; we will help you maintain the peace so that you may determine what’s appropriate.” Derek then looks to his mate, who has taken a sullen demeaner. “Can you tell me about Sheriff Stilinski? Last Stiles and I heard, he was being taken to the hospital.”

“He’s stable,” Jordan says seriously. “The Doctors ran a few test when he arrived unconscious. Physically, he’s fine, but the tests showed some strange chemicals in his body. They believe that he was being given a toxin that kept him asleep, kind of like a medically induced coma.” Anger grows within Stiles. Deaton must have been keeping him unconscious in the clinic. His dad probably won’t even understand what’s been going on. “They ordered a detox for him yesterday to try to rid him of whatever poison is in his system. Melissa is with him now, waiting for him to wake up.”

Sorrow fills Stiles quickly. Melissa… dear god… Melissa…

“Has anybody told her…” Stiles says gently.

Jordan simply nods, “One of our nearby units escorted Kira and Liam to the hospital after the incident.”

Stiles and Derek both turn to the two. “She knows,” Kira says softly. “The hospital let her take off work for a while under bereavement. She’s been waiting for Noah to wake up.” The mates don’t know if this is good news or bad news. It’s all quite sudden. “She asked about you. She was glad that you were back, but she was worried when she found out that you hadn’t woken up either.”

Both Derek and Stiles turn to look at each other quickly. “We should go see her. It’s the least we can do,” Stiles says to Derek.

“Well,” Alex finally interjects. Everybody turns to see him stand up from the recliner. “I would like to advise you wait awhile before leaving the loft. This Darach, who has been plaguing this town, is still alive; as well as this new ‘Alpha.’ In your weakened state, I would advise against wandering about.” Alex makes his way up to Stiles. “If you would allow me, I am unknown to your enemy. I can monitor the two undetected and let you know when your father wakes up.”

The mates turn to look at one another once more. Peter is the one to speak up, “he has a point. Theo and Deaton are still out there. Since the Nemeton is protected by the preserve now, and you’ve woken up from Deaton’s magical jailcell, they’re going to be after you three Guardians. It’ll be important to stay cautious.”

Stiles hangs his head in thought, “Hmm, maybe for now…” He looks up to Alex once more. “But I don’t want to put you in danger either.”

“Nonsense,” Alex waves his hand in the air laxly, “I know my way around dangerous circumstances,” he says with a wink. “Besides, I think the twins would like to help as well.”

Derek turns to the twins, who are sitting patiently on the recliner still. Julian is the first to offer his help. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to know more about the land. The spirits of this place are in mourning and I would like to help calm this territory, if I may.”

Derek ponders for a moment, “I think we have a few family journals in the vault. You might be able to start there… Peter?”

“Yes…” Peter perks up as though he’s had a sudden idea. “Cora can show you to the vault!”

Cora walks into the room with Isaac, ready to pass out food and drinks to everybody. “Fucking what…”

“Yes!” Peter says maliciously. “I think it would be a wonderful idea for Cora to learn more about the family vault as well.” Peter then tuns to young Julian, “however, you will need protection…” he then turns to the tenderwolf himself, “Isaac! would you like to join them? It would mean the world to us if you could offer your protection to Cora and Julian as they explore the family vault!”

Derek chuckles as he registers what Peter is trying to do. “Peter…” Cora grinds out angrily.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea!” Stiles shouts out. “Please guys, PRETTY PLEASE?! You two wouldn’t want to disrespect our guests, now would you?!” Isaac is flushed with embarrassment and Cora glares actual death into her family. “Good, then it’s settled! Isaac and Cora will take Julian to the family vault so he can read all about the preserve! Okay moving on!”

Juliana is the next to speak, “okay, so like, I know these guys are the big bad scary evil guys, but I want to help you track them down. I’ve been working on my spellwork a lot lately, and I think I can help!”

Derek, Stiles, and Peter all look at one another questioningly; they haven’t really thought about tracking down their enemy quite yet. “Well, we don’t really know what to look for right now…” Stiles says slowly.

*cough*cough*

Everybody turns to Jackson, who is nudging Danny in the side.

Stiles looks at the two surprised. “Umm… guys, is there something that you wanted to say…”

Danny stammers a bit after being nudged by his boyfriend enough times. “I was going to offer to help with that too… I might not be able to find their exact location, but I can keep track of their electronic signatures and tell you if they try to make a move around the city.”

“Oh my gawd yasss!” Juliana sings out. “That is totally my ish baby boi! Technological magic is totes on the trend right now! I can help with that! You want to find a cellphone that is turned off? I got you. You want to bypass a double firewalled security system? I got you. You want to play transformers with your blender at home? I. Got. You!”

Everybody smiles fondly at Juliana’s youthful attitude. “That would be very helpful, Juliana, thank you,” Derek says to the young ball of energy.

“Okay, yeah, but please don’t turn my house into a lethal amusement park…” Danny half jokes.

Juliana shrugs, “Ehh, no promises.”

Derek then turns to one of his new betas for support. “Jackson, can you keep an eye on Juliana while she’s with Danny?”

Jackson, surprisingly, nods emphatically, “of course alpha!”

“Thank you,” is all Derek says. He then turns to Alex to make sure he’s going to be okay, “We’ll stay low while Stiles rests, but are you sure you’ll be okay on your own? I don’t want to think about what Christiano will do to me if anything happens to you.”

Alex then grows a bit of a blush, “Actually… now might be a good time to tell you that we didn’t come alone…” Stiles and Derek look at Alex with a wondering look on their faces. “I called a few associates of mine while we were on our way here just in case we needed a few experts on hand…”

Just then, several sets of footsteps can be heard making their way to the front door outside of the loft. “I hope you don’t mind…” Alex says shyly.

There is a knock on the door before Alex takes the liberty of throwing a hand in the air and sliding the door open from afar.

There, standing in the open space of the loft’s front door, is Noshiko Yukimura, Satomi Ito, and one of Satomi’s youngest betas, Brett Talbot.

“Mom?!” Kira says while rushing up to her mother for a warming embrace.

Liam is left on the couch nearby Jackson and Danny, his face is flushed red and the wolf within him begins to rumble… “Brett?” he says softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... we added some more characters to the story...


	23. May We Sit With You For A Moment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).

As soon as Kira reaches her mother, the silent tears start. Kira is overcome with all the emotions she has felt for the last two days. After losing her mate, she didn’t know what was going to happen to her. She knew that wolves go mad, and eventually feral at the loss of a mate, but what about foxes?

Stiles watches in relief as Kira Yukimura is reunited with her mother. He turns to Alex, who has a pleasant look on his face. Alex turns to look at Stiles in return. _Thank you_ , stiles silently mouths to Alex. Alex smiles brightly.

Stiles then takes in the presence of Satomi Ito. Stiles vaguely remembers her. During the Nogitsune possession, Satomi was a recurring image that flowed into Stiles’ mind from the demon who inhabited his body. Stiles would later learn that the Nogitsune had originally possessed the deceased body of Noshiko’s first lover, and Satomi had helped neutralize him all that time ago.

Stiles was unaware that Alex was in contact with either of them, but he guesses when you’re a sage, you know a lot of people.

“Sup Liam,” Brett says as he lifts his chin and raises his eyebrows.

A musk of arousal permeates the loft as Liam blushes red like a cute little tomato. Nobody says anything out loud, but in a room full of supernatural creatures, nobody really needs to. Stiles and Derek both let out a sigh of relief; it did not go unnoticed that Kira and Liam did not ask to join the pack.

This is good. The McCall pack will be taken care of, just like Stiles promised.

The mates make their way over to Noshiko and Alpha Ito. “I don’t know how you two know Emissary Flores, but thank you for coming” Derek says as he shakes Alpha Ito’s hand. They share a flash of crimson eyes to establish respect.

“15 years ago, Talia asked me to check in with Laura and the Hale territory periodically while she and Peter answered the Flores Pack’s distress call,’ Alpha Ito says calmly. Her voice is controlled and patient. With her age, everybody in the room can feel the power she radiates. “Laura was in her extremely early twenties at the time. She was formidable, but she lacked knowledge about pack dynamics and leadership. It was a good experience for her, and when Talia returned, I established communication with her allies in Colorado.”

Kira finally lets go of her mother so that the older Kitsune may speak, but continues to stay by her side. “As for me, Emissary Flores and his mate, Alpha Flores, are the legal guardians of somebody who is very dear to me, a mountain kitsune who is the last member of the Hayashi bloodline. Once upon a time, the Yukimura clan and the Hayashi clan were remarkably close allies.”

Alex now makes his way up to the other guests. “Noshiko, you should come by sometime, Daichi would be thrilled to see you again!”

“I just came by not to long ago,” Noshiko says breathlessly.

“Noshiko, it’s been six years!” Alex says as if he’s the parent of the two.

The Kitsune waves her hand dismissively while Alpha Ito chuckles. “How is he? Is he alright?” Noshiko asks.

Alex releases a slow breath, “He’s alright, for the most part. He takes his responsibility in the pack too seriously. I think he’s trying to make up for being the only sibling who isn’t blood related by becoming the over-protective older brother.” Stiles and Derek both feel for the young man. They knew the children well; Daichi was always a bit serious, more serious than Julian. The twins share a soft look as they listen to their father. “However, he and Christiano are awfully close. Since Christiano isn’t the biological father of any of our children, they bond over being an unorthodox family, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is the lone fox in a pack of wolves. He would benefit from A coat of his own kind.” Alex then turns to Kira, “Kira my dear, you are also welcome to come with your mother. On behalf of Alpha Flores, I hereby invite you to stay with us for as long as you’d like.”

And there it is, the reason why Alex invited Noshiko. Noshiko looks at Alex as if a light bulb has switched on in her head, she should have known Alex would offer his pack to the younger kitsune. “You know,” Kira’s mother finally says, “that doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all.” She then turns to her daughter, “What do you say Kira?”

Kira looks at her mother in trepidation. After the loss of her mate, is it really a good time to leave? She needs to mourn, do right by the people Scott left behind.

“Kira,” Stiles finally speaks up, “I know that you may feel bound to avenge your mate, but I promise we will do everything we can to honor the late Alpha McCall. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to; the Hale pack will protect you whenever you’re here, but I can tell you from experience that Colorado is a beautiful place to heal after this town has taken everything away from you.” Stiles smiles heartily at her, “You don’t have to decide now. If you want to help us take care of Deaton and Theo first, that’s your decision. Just know that whatever you decide, we’re here for you.”

Derek, Alex, Noshiko, and Satomi all gaze at Stiles fondly. Even after just waking from a terrible dreamscape, his wisdom and patience radiate in place of his currently diminished strength. It is a true testament to how far Stiles has come as a person. He is a man that Derek thanks the moon he is deserving of.

Kira raises a small smile before looking to the floor. Noshiko kisses her daughter on the forehead. They will decide later.

“Alpha Ito,” Stiles decides to change the topic before Kira is embarrassed any further, “can I assume that you came to pay respects to the late Alpha McCall?” Although Stiles is still hurting for his fallen brother, he holds his head high and speaks warmly, professionally.

Satomi simply nods. “I made a promise to Alpha McCall that if anything were ever to happened to his pack, I would offer what I could to those who remain in Beacon Hills. As you know, the Talbot Pack suffered a similar fate to Talia Hale.” Satomi then looks over to Brett who is wearing a brave face. “Brett and his sister have become icons of strength and persistence after they survived their own awful misfortune. I am glad to see that most of the McCall Pack are alive and well.”

Liam finally stands up from where he’s sitting and walks over to the elders. “I remember that,” he says shyly. Stiles and Derek turn to look at him now. Liam looks to Stiles as he talks, “Scott was a mess after you left. After a few months, he sought out Alpha Ito for help. She helped him reel in his emotions and helped him realize the kind of Alpha he wanted to be.” Liam now looks down to the ground. “He tried.”

Brett rushes over to Liam, who is clearly having a hard time, and places a strong and sturdy hand on the back of the young wolf’s neck. Liam looks up as another blush makes its way to his face. “It’s okay Liam. I’ve got your back,” Brett says easily while rubbing circles into the back of Liam’s neck, scent marking him. Liam practically rolls into the touch as his eyes fall to the back of his head.

Stiles, Derek, and Satomi all share a knowing look. Brett can practically smell the omega vibes Liam is giving off. There is so much arousal in the air that the two might as well strip naked and fuck each other on the damn cement floor.

Isaac and Cora then bring out food for Noshiki, Satomi, and Brett along with everybody else and they all start to fall into a more relaxed composure as most of the tension in the room has been resolved.

——

As everybody in the loft have relaxed and begin to mingle, Stiles, Derek, Alex, Noshiko, Satomi, Jordan, Lydia, Peter, and Chris all make their way to an upstairs spare room to talk strategy. Once the door closes and everybody takes a seat around the space, Alex graciously enchants the room, sealing off all sounds.

“Thank you for offering Kira a place to stay,” Noshiko says softly to Alex. “I think it would be good to have her and Daichi together for a while. Daichi can bond with another Kitsune and Kira can take her mind off things in order to heal.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Alex responds. “She will be safe in Colorado; I can assure you.”

Noshiko simply nods.

Derek takes the opportunity to speak to Satomi now, “Alpha Ito, I don’t think I need to explain to you that Liam does not want to become a member of the Hale Pack, and there isn’t much left for him here other than pain and heartache. He is not close to the members of the Hale Pack and most everybody has told me that he has problems with anger and control already as it is. If he stays here, as an omega, I have no doubt that he will slowly turn feral.” Satomi closes her eyes and breathes deeply for a moment while Stiles looks towards the ground in shame. It’s true, although Stiles would like to help the young wolf, there isn’t much left for him in Beacon Hills.

When Satomi opens her eyes, she is looking at Alex. “Well, I think that may be the reason Alex asked me to bring Brett in the first place.” Everybody turns to look at the man, but Alex is now looking out one of the room’s windows, faking innocence. “At first, I thought Brett would be a good example of survival and perseverance, but I see there is more to it than that.”

Peter is the one to chuckle at Satomi’s words, “clearly. Liam was practically ready to present himself to the young stud right in the middle of the loft. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already made away somewhere to… ‘bond’.”

Everybody in the room lets out a soft laugh. Peter is right.

Satomi clears her throat once the room has settled, “yes, you are quite possibly correct.” She nods her head fondly as she thinks of what the two could mean for one another. “If it means providing both boys with a purpose to enhance their lives, I will gladly offer the young wolf a place alongside Brett in the pack.”

Stiles, Derek, and Alex all release a breath of relief. Kira and Liam will be taken care of, just as Stiles had thought.

“We should discuss the problem of this Alan Deaton,” Alex says, “and the problem he has created with an Alpha Chimera.” Suddenly, the room becomes very serious.

Peter coughs lightly. “Well, it would appear as though the twin’s help is going to be extraordinary to the cause. With the information that Julian can learn from our vault, I have no doubt that he will be able to help us heal the underlying energy of the territory itself. Such will be an easy task now that the preserve can defend itself.”

Satomi and Noshiko seem to have already been updated on everything while the mates were in the shower, so Peter continues. “Juliana and Danny, on the other hand, I’m sure will be more than capable of keeping tabs on Theo and his ‘pack’ while we all regroup and recover.” Peter than looks to Chris, who has a confident look on his face, “which brings me to the matter of Corey Bryant.”

Stiles looks at Peter curiously, “who is Corey Bryant?”

Chris is the one to answer however, “Corey Bryant is one of the other chimeras that was watching over Sheriff Stilinski when Isaac, Jackson, and I retrieved him from Deaton’s clinic. The young man was afraid of what Theo would do if we took Noah from him… so, we took them both. Corey is now being held at the station for his involvement in Noah’s capture.”

Stiles rubs his chin thoughtfully. That’s right, Chris did mention something about taking a hostage.

Peter speaks to Jordan now, offering the next logical step, “It would be wise to see what he knows. He may be able to provide insight on Deaton’s actions and give us more information on Theo’s ‘Pack’.”

Jordan nods in response, “from what I understand, we have his basic information recorded but nobody interrogated him when he first arrived. Most of the deputies who were available all headed to the hospital at the time to make sure Noah was okay. Since I’m still the acting Sheriff until Noah makes a full recovery, it would be easy to get you in to see him. We can say that you’re his lawyer. I think an hour in a secluded room would be enough for you to get what you need.”

Peter grins marvelously, “…more than enough.”

“I would like to be there as well, if you don’t mind,” Chris chimes in, “I was there when we recovered Noah. I have a few questions to ask as well.”

Jordan nods once more, “I don’t think that will be a problem. Just don’t kill the kid. I can’t let any of the prisoners die while I’m in charge.”

“Agreed,” Peter and Chris both say in unison.

Peter eyes Chris seductively as he speaks, “it’s a date, Argent.”

Chris gives Peter a hard look before turning away.

Alex tilts his head slightly, taking the time to sagely understand what’s going on between the two… Alex ends up with a small smile and joy in his heart at the little he learns.

Lydia is the one to speak up next, “Derek, I know the Preserve can protect itself now, but the people in the city could still be in danger. Now that Deaton has been cornered strategically, we have no clue what he’ll do or if anybody in particular is on his radar. If I give you the city patrol routes Scott and I came up with, do you think you and Malia could watch the city? I have faith in Danny and Juliana, but if they spot something, we need to have bodies on the ground who can spring into action before it’s too late. I can stay here with Stiles while he recovers, and as information comes in, I can help brainstorm the best possible options to take going forward.”

Derek and Stiles both look to Lydia in awe. She is going to be an incredible asset to the Pack. Not only is she unbelievably intelligent, but she is also powerful and lethal in her own, unique way. Derek grunts to agree, “yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I have a few patrol routes that I came up with as well, a few years ago. I want you to look them over and combine everything into something concise and manageable for two people.”

Lydia answers Derek seriously, “yes Alpha. Send me the information and I’ll get to work immediately.”

Satomi interrupts the two, wanting to help, “while we are here, I can have Brett help you patrol the city, which, in turn will urge Liam to help as well.”

Derek nods at the offer, “thank you Alpha Ito, that would be very helpful.”

“I’ll adjust the routes accordingly and make a few options depending on how many people we’ll have available at different times,” Lydia says quickly. Damn, Lydia is falling into her role effortlessly. Something in Stiles thinks that this is the role she has wanted to play for a long time; she just wasn’t truly considered for it in the McCall Pack while Deaton was around.

“Meanwhile, Noshiko, Satomi, and I will watch over Melissa and the sheriff,” Alex offers. “Noshiko, you’re familiar with Melissa McCall correct?”

“Yes, I remember the day I first met Alpha McCall even,” she answers, “he was so unaccustomed to Japanese food that Kira slipped out of the house to pick up a pizza after diner. They thought I had no idea.” Everybody laughs fondly as the Kitsune brings up the late Alpha McCall in a light-heartened fashion.

When everybody is settled, Stiles shakes his head in worry. Derek feels some sort of trepidation through their bond. “… Stiles?” he asks.

Stiles looks up to his mate lovingly, “you’re all going to leave me here with Lydia Martin… do you understand what that means?” Stiles’ arms flail left and right as he speaks, “I’m going to be neck deep in online shopping and chick flicks until you all think I’m well enough to leave this place!”

Everybody laughs even harder.

——

Noshiko gently knocks on the door of Noah Stilinski’s hospital room. Melissa quickly stands from her seated position by Noah’s side. He is still asleep.

“Noshiko!?” Melissa says quickly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Don’t apologize dear,” Noshiko reassures her. “I’ve brought a few friends with me to pay our respects.” Melissa looks at her with a soft smile and a solemn heart as Satomi and Alex walk into the room. “May we sit with you for a moment?”

Melissa simply nods and pages the nurse on call for a few extra chairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly just written to move the plot along, but don't worry, we're getting to some of the more... 'juicy' parts of the story...


	24. Peter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I have not given up on you guys! This chapter took a long time to write and I hope you guys can see why once you're done with it...
> 
> =P
> 
> P.S. fuck timelines.....

“So…” Peter begins coyly, “shall we do the whole, ‘good cop, bad cop’ thing?”

“Unnecessary,” Chris says dryly. The two men are currently looking through the opposite side of a one-way interrogation mirror. Corey sits anxiously in the interrogation room while Peter and Chris read over his case file in the adjoining room. “Look at his record. It’s the cleanest criminal history I’ve ever seen. On top of that, you should have seen the look of relief on his face when we brought him with us.” Peter simply hums.

“He’ll talk,” Chris says simply.

“Isaac said that he can become invisible. A useful skill for anybody to have,” Peter admires.

“Exactly, he could walk right out of the station and not a single soul would know the better.” Chris feels sympathy for the young man. “He hasn’t asked to use the phone and he has yet to bring up anything about a release. He clearly has no intention of leaving this place, or going back to his pack. My question, is why.”

Peter sets his papers down and stares intently at the hunter in front of him, “for somebody who has spent the majority of his life trying to kill our kind, well, _most of our kind_ anyways…” Peter says seductively, “you sure do care a lot for our youth, you know.”

Chris gives Peter a flat look, ignoring the bait. Peter strolls over to Chris with a glimmer in his eye. “Tell me Chris, am I the only wolf you’ve fucked before, or did you move on to younger, more attractive beasts after me?” By now, Peter is right in Chris face, waiting for him to make a move.

Rage fills within the hunter as he speaks, “I never took advantage of Isaac, if that’s what you’re asking.” *truth*

“Oh but why not?” Peter asks maliciously. “He was of age by the time the two of you _eloped_ from this forsaken town.” Peter has now moved behind Chris, massaging his shoulders. “He is quite striking, is he not? Did he not remind you of myself? Or perhaps, that’s exactly why you never indulged…” The wolf now closes in behind his prey, whispering in his ear, “every time you saw his juicy ass bare and ready for you, you were reminded of our nights together, the best sex you’ve ever had, and you knew that the young man simply couldn’t compete.”

Peter now removes his hands from Chris’ shoulders and slides them both up the man’s shirt from the sides. Chris just stands there, allowing it to happen. Peter draws his claws forth as his hands make their way up Chris’ chest. Peter’s fingernails create blunt claw marks down Chris’ torso as the wolf continues to whisper in his ear, “or perhaps you didn’t want him to see the scars I left on your back after you brutally fucked me deep into your wife’s mattress.”

“Peter…” Chris grits between his clenched jaw. It’s a warning. Chris has his eyes closed in an attempt to avoid the growing problem in his pants. Slowly, Chris brings his left hand up to follow Peter’s wrist sensually while his right hand reaches behind him to grab hold of Peter’s hair.

And then, Peter is gone, slipped away. The lingering ghost of Peter’s touch both irritates and relieves Chris at the same time.

“Well if you insist on providing this young man the same respect you have provided Mr. Lahey, then there is no need for me to do so as well,” Peter says easily as he makes his way out into the hall.

‘… fucking Peter Hale …’ Chris thinks to himself.

——

“I swear I didn’t know about their plans for Scott,” Corey says in a small voice. Peter is standing, looking at himself in the mirror, acting completely uninterested.

“Then what was the reason for luring Stiles back to Beacon Hills?” Chris asks from his seat at the table.

Corey’s body is flushed with shame, “all we were told is that they needed Stiles to pull more power from the Nemeton.”

“ _More_ power?” Chris asks.

Shame and embarrassment roll off Corey in waves. “Deaton has been drawing on the power of the Nemeton for years. It’s how he made us.”

“What do you mean he made you?” Chris continues.

“…I was in an accident…” *lie* Peter turns to Chris in silent communication, squinting his eyes to inform the man of Corey’s lie. It’s a good thing that Corey has never actually met Peter, or he would know that Peter is ‘Peter Hale,’ the wolf. Apparently, this kid doesn’t have a sense of smell. He himself even smells like a human. The only reason Chris has taken the reigns is because he was there for the young man’s capture.

“I’m guessing it wasn’t an accident, now was it?” Chris badgers.

Corey’s cheeks flush red as he lets out a long breath, “there was a car wreck.” *truth* Peter nods. “I didn’t know that Lucas was one of them at the time. He drove us into a tree off the road and I hit my head pretty bad.”

“You think Lucas wrecked the car on purpose to bring you to Deaton?” Chris asks, rage building within him.

Corey just shrugs. “I don’t remember much, just a lot of blood.” *truth* Peter nods to Chris. “When I woke up, Lucas was just fine; we were in the basement of the clinic. Lucas said that Deaton saved my life… but all he actually did was attach the skin of a chameleon to my kidneys. There was some sort of ritual involved; it’s how I can turn invisible now. I don’t know how to explain the strength, or the healing, or how I can make other people invisible too. Deaton used different animals for all of us. We’re all unique in some way. I’m the only one who isn’t part wolf. I’m sure I have other stuff too… but Deaton is good at saying a lot without actually answering any questions.”

Peter scoffs at Corey’s words. That has always been a remarkable skill for the man. Chris continues on, “so Deaton was using the magic of the Nemeton to preform cross-species transplants. This was giving you all the appearance of being werecreatures. I’m guessing Theo is the most believable werewolf.”

Corey nods, “Deaton kept making more of us until he finally made somebody who could be integrated into a real pack. Theo is the last one of us he’s made.”

Chris shakes his head further in confusion. “How did nobody notice this was happening?”

“We all live underground, and we don’t come up very often. Theo is the only one allowed to live up top,” Corey explains.

“Where underground?” Peter finally asks. It’s the first thing he’s said this entire time.

“There are a lot of old mining tunnels under the city; bunkers too, where the old workers used to sleep,” Corey answers. “There's an entrance to the tunnels in the basement back at the clinic. We can run from one end of the city to the other in 20 minutes if you know where you’re going.”

“Those tunnels are inaccessible,” Peter quips. “There was an explosion in the industrial district ages ago that killed more than half of the miners and left those tunnels full of debris.”

“They aren’t inaccessible for a handful of teenagers with super strength and a druid who can move earth around with his mind,” Corey states calmly.

Both men stare blankly at Corey before turning to look at one another. Peter slowly makes his way behind Corey in the interrogation room and Chris can see the skepticism in his eyes. Peter massages Corey’s neck slowly as he speaks softly to him, “why are you telling us all of this, young man?”

Corey starts to shake in fear as Peter’s hands roam over his shoulders, “I don’t want to go back…” Corey admits weakly. *truth*

Just for the hell of it, Peter leans in closer to whisper in his ear, “this wouldn’t be a trap to lure us into the tunnels, right Corey?” As peter speaks, his hands begin to roam forward, hovering over Corey’s exposed neck and clavicle.

Blood begins to rush through Corey at an accelerated rate as his heart speeds up exponentially. “No—” Corey’s words are cut off by his own hitched breath. “No sir...” *truth*

Peter’s right hand presses a firm amount of tension to the pressure point right behind Corey’s ear as his left hand gently slips into Corey’s shirt to caress his chest. “ _Good boy_ ,” Peter whispers into his ear once more. Corey swallows a nearly escaped moan as his eyes roll to the back of his head in arousal. Peter’s praise seems to have quite an effect on him.

“That’s enough Peter,” Chris says in an annoyed tone.

When Peter looks up to see the hunter, he catches the undeniable scent of arousal coming from the man as well. ‘Well,’ Peter thinks to himself, ‘isn’t that interesting.’ Peter releases his grip on Corey and makes his way to the other side of the table. “Any further questions?” Peter asks Chris.

Chris just huffs out a judgmental breath towards Peter. He turns back to Corey, who is flushed with desire while breathing heavily. “Try to get some rest while you’re here. We’ll be back soon,” Chris says.

Corey nods.

Peter smirks to himself on his way out of the room.

——

When Chris and Peter enter the black SUV, the tension in the air is suffocating. “That was completely unnecessary,” Chris says in an angry tone.

Peter quickly finishes sending Derek and Stiles a text summarizing the information they’ve learned and turns to Chris amused, “why are you still here Argent?”

Chris goes silent as Peter watches him expectantly. The sudden question has caught him off guard.

“Hmm?” Peter questions, a cocky grin on his face.

“Fuck you, Peter,” Chris says angrily.

“Are you offering?” Now, Peter lays his hand on Chris’ right knee, massaging it softly. Chris just glares at Peter’s hand; he has yet to start the engine from where he sits in the driver’s seat. “Why _are_ you still here Chris?” Peter badgers once more, voice softer, more serious. “You have fulfilled Stiles’ request by retrieving the Sheriff, Isaac has pledged his loyalty to the Pack, and with the numbers we now have, your skills are no longer necessary…” as Peter speaks, his hand travels farther up Chris’ thigh, dangerously close to treacherous territory. “So, I’ll ask again… _why_ are you still here?”

Chris’ breath catches as Peter finally reaches his destination. Peter takes great joy in Chris’ raged breathing as he kneads his hand into the massive erection trapped inside of the hunter’s jeans. Peter leans into Chris’ space, adding another hand to his fun. Peter uses his left hand to fiddle with Chris’ belt buckle (pretending to have a difficult time unlocking it), and his right hand takes over the gentle stroking of the man’s shaft. Chris’ eyes are shut tight as Peter whispers into his ear, “perhaps something is keeping you here, Argent… or better yet… someone.”

When Peter finally pulls Chris’ mammoth cock from its confines, Chris grits his teeth together as he begins to shake, “Peter…” Chris doesn’t know exactly what he’s trying to say; maybe it’s a warning, maybe a plea… maybe it’s both.

Chris continues to shake as Peter leans down to press his lips gingerly to the tip of Chris’ cock. “Hello again, old friend,” he whispers before licking the slit, where a small stream of Chris’ precome has collected.

Surprisingly, Peter is not the one to lose control as the flavor of salt and desperation explodes on his tongue. Chris, unable to control himself any longer, grabs the back of Peter’s head with both hands and forces the werewolf to swallow him dry, all the way down to the base. “Nghhh!’ Chris exclaims loudly as he holds Peter in place, hands wrapped tightly throughout short, wavy hair.

Peter’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his irises glow a wicked beta blue. An aggressive yet hungry growl rumbles within Peter, sending electrifying shivers through Chris’ cock and into his soul.

Chris is unable to think. The current stimulation to his most impressive weapon is a feat that only Peter has ever been able to achieve. Chris is so long, and so thick, that not a single soul has ever been able to take his full length into their throat. Unfortunate as it is, no pussy in the world has ever been long enough either. There have only been two holes on earth that could withstand the entirety of Christopher Argent… and they both belong to Peter.

Peter has yet to jerk upwards for air…

Chris’ vision starts to go white at the edges as Peter begins to gnaw on the buffet of hunter meat in his mouth.

Peter is in heaven.

Not even Christiano’s knot was able to provide this much pleasure to Peter’s mouth. Christiano’s dick is thick and heavy, long and fucking beautiful, and when he knotted Peter’s mouth, the streams of cum were drowning… but Christopher Argent has a cock that was made for Peter’s insides. They are two pieces of a puzzle that may have never wanted to fit together, but were destined to regardless.

Peter still hasn’t come up for air…

Instead, Chris tightens his grip on Peter’s head (if that’s even possible) and starts a brutal rhythm of facefucking the cockslut before him. Chris expects the whore to cough, gag, or do literally anything to fight the onslaught of the assault… but Peter just moans and growls louder…

Peter wraps his left hand behind Chris’ lower back as it slides down to grab his ass, and his right hand reaches above himself to seize the back of Chris’ thigh. With his hold, uncomfortable as it may be, Peter decides to help the human fuck into his own face, faster and more forceful.

“GOD DAMNIT YOU’RE A HUNGRY FUCKING SLUT!” Chris shouts out. He raises one of his hands about a foot above Peters head, and slams an open palm down to smack Peter as the werewolf just keeps fucking going, moaning even louder. Chris times a few more strikes to land as his cock glides deep into Peter’s throat.

Peter still hasn’t come up for air…

Peter finally coughs around Chris’ length as his lungs start to build more and more muscle tension. When Chris looks down, past Peter’s hair, the man’s skin is turning purple due to the lack of oxygen.

Chris lets go of the man’s head and Peter quickly rushes up for air. His face is fucking wrecked. His eyes are bloodshot and the veins in his forehead are still visible. He looks into Chris’ eyes, and the only thing he says is, “why is the car still parked?” voice raspy.

Before Chris has time to answer however, Peter dives right back down to swallow Chris’ cock once more, continuing his worship of the man’s ungodly blessing.

Chris starts the car and pulls out of the Sheriff’s station with a speed that is probably breaking several laws…

——

Chris knocks over three mailboxes, nearly runs over two cats, and upon his arrival to the Argent estate, wrecks the SUV into the garage door.

Yes, Peter does hit his head on the steering wheel upon impact, but by the time he has slipped Chris’ cock out of his mouth and jumped out of the vehicle, the injury is already healed. He quite literally sprints up the front porch and kicks the door in… (what, he doesn’t have a key… and he’s faster than Argent…) Lucky, Peter has enough common sense to aim his kick near the doorknob, so he only actually breaks the locks as the door violently swings open, still attached to the hinges.

Chris takes a bit longer to arrive in the house. He has to tuck himself into his boxer briefs before exiting the SUV (no, he doesn’t need to zip up his pants), and run around the vehicle since the front bumper is pushed up against the garage door…

When Chris crosses over the threshold that was once a functional front door, Peter is fully naked, face down, ass up with his chest pressed flat against the wooden floor. His knees are tucked inward to present his ass at the best angle for Chris’ unrighteous fury.

Chris wastes no time throwing his own clothes off and sinking down to his knees in order to line his cock up to Peter’s pulsing hole. He grabs hold of Peter’s waist with pummeling strength as he pulls the werewolf back ferociously, skewering the man on his stiff rod. Peter doesn’t even scream in pain; he just moans in pleasure.

‘Bless this wonderful fucking bitch,’ Chris thinks to himself.

The door behind them remains open as Chris fucks Peter the only way he deserves to be fucked… without remorse.

…

About 45 minutes go by before they make their way to the couch, Peter rocking back and forth while straddling Chris’ cock. Chris lets Peter ride him for about 20 minutes before he gets irritated with the position.

They make it halfway up the stairs before Chris slams Peter against the wall and fucks him hard. That position doesn’t last long because it’s a bit awkward.

When the two finally run into the master bedroom upstairs, Peter thinks he’s found his salvation when he sees the bed. Unfortunately, Chris grabs Peter by the hair and tugs him backwards. Peter hits the floor hard, landing on his back, taken by surprise.

Chris is quick to throw his body over Peter and enters him once more. When Peter catches his breath, he wraps his legs around Chris’ ass and lifts his crotch upward to meet the man’s thrusts. Peter then claws at the man’s muscular back, opening a few of his old scars…

Chris has breed Peter’s ass four times now, but Peter stopped counting because every time Chris reaches his climax, he just keeps going…

——

“Victoria and I had an arranged marriage,” Chris pants out in between heaved breaths. The two of them have finally made it to the bed. They are both breathing heavily as they stare at the ceiling, still naked. “We never made love after Allison was born. Once Victoria had an heir to the family line, there was no point in fucking anymore.”

Peter’s breaths are slower, more controlled. Werewolf healing is a gift. “I only procreated with the Desert Wolf for her power,” Peter responds easily. “If Talia wouldn’t have taken Malia from us and locked my memories away, I would have trained my daughter to one day challenge Laura for her inheritance of Talia’s Alpha Spark.”

Both men refuse to look at the other.

“I wish I could have been the one to Kill Gerard,” Chris says with a bit of regret in his voice. “If Kate wasn’t there to rip him to shreds, I would have put a bullet in his head.”

“I wish I would have killed your sister right the first time,” Peter answers without hesitation. “I shouldn’t have left her there to die. I should have ripped her entire head off.”

“I wish you would have killed my sister right the first time too,” Chris admits proudly. “I shouldn’t have walked away from her when she killed Gerard.”

“You’re my mate.”

…

Chris finally turns his head to look at Peter. Peter doesn’t look back.

Chris turns back to look at the ceiling. “I’m still here because I missed you.”

Now, Peter turns his head to look at the other man. Chris doesn’t look back.

Suddenly, Peter’s phone starts to ring from where it lays on the floor by the bed. How it got there, who fucking knows. Peter knows he has to answer it. That’s Stiles’ ringtone.

With an aggravated breath, Peter gets out of bed to grab the phone from the floor, “you have an uncanny ability to call at the worst possible times, you know that right?” Peter nods along to whatever Stiles tells him. “Fine,” he sighs out. “I’ll be there in an hour or two. I need to clean up.” Peter rolls his eyes as Stiles surly questions Peter’s need to bathe. “Don’t worry about it,” is all Peter says before hanging up.

Peter makes his way to Chris’ dresser to pull out a clean shirt and some sweatpants. Hopefully they fit well enough that he can walk into the store and buy some unscented clothes. “Danny and Juliana want us to go see them. Well, they want me to go see them, I guess. They need more information about the underground tunnels Corey mentioned. I’m going to use your shower; you’re welcome to join me if you want.”

Chris watches Peter walk into the bathroom with a few of his clothes. He takes a deep breath before he stands up to follow the wolf. They don’t make it to Danny’s house for another four and a half hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it not perfect!? Like come on!? it's perfect!
> 
> Also, I have another work I've started in order to keep my creative juices flowing!, You're welcome to take a look at "Stiles Stilinski Is An Enigma" if you need some new material to keep you going. Just find it under my works. *wink*wink*
> 
> P.S.S. By all means, you are all welcome to point out spelling/grammatical mistakes on ANY of my works. Any help to fix my errors are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Example: Hey Alex, just to let you know, in Paragraph XX, Sentence XX, you said "well" instead of "we'll" (we will).


	25. Love, Devotion, & Guidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE BITCH! I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME!
> 
> Nah, but for real, life caught up with me for a while and I had to take care of myself. I woke up today with some inspiration and started writing again. Originally, this entire chapter was written from Stiles' perspective but I didn't like how it turned out, so I trashed it and took some time to brainstorm. I hope you enjoy it...

It has been quite some time since Lydia Martin has been in Derek Hale’s loft, years actually. Surprisingly, the loft hasn’t changed one bit. There are still cracks and dents in the cement wall where ‘wolves have gotten rough and angry. If she looks hard enough, Lydia is sure she would be able to find dried blood here and there that still hasn’t been cleaned.

What has changed, is the energy in the air. Now that Lydia has finished drafting the updated patrol routes, she has a chance to simply enjoy Stiles’ company. Although quite a lot has happened in the last several days, Lydia finds herself at a loss for words as she sits with Stiles in the ‘lounging space’ of the loft. Stiles is currently on the phone with Peter while three little miniature wolves wrestle with his hand, the hand that isn’t occupied with his phone.

Lydia should feel strange about watching bite-sized wolfs run around the loft, while another set of full-sized wolves guard the perimeter… but she doesn’t. These wolves are an extension of Stiles Hale, emissary-mate of the Hale Pack. She has come to accept that life isn't as predictable as she has thought to believe.

Stiles has changed; that’s a given. From the moment Lydia watched him appear before her in the remnants of the old Hale house, to now, Lydia has realized that whatever Stiles has been doing all this time, it was absolutely necessary. As she watches him speak to Peter on the phone, she takes a moment to appreciate the man he has become. Obvious changes aside, Stiles is more than a well-built physique with fitted clothing. When he speaks, his voice no longer shakes with uncertainty and insecurities; it resonates with patience and purpose. When he moves, his body no longer sways with in-coordination and excessive energy; it glides with grace and composure.

Lydia doesn’t need to wonder why he is married to Derek. Seeing the two of them together is like seeing the moon and the stars in the same sky: they just belong. Lydia does wonder, however, if anybody in the McCall Pack could have ever shown Stiles the love and support he needed in order to become who he is today.

She thinks back on Stiles’ ridiculous ’10-year-plan’ to make her fall in love with him and questions whether or not she would have deserved the Stiles that currently sits in front of her.

Lydia thinks of herself as capable, yes… intelligent, yes… but what does she truly know about life? She knows about death, yes. She can feel it in the air. She can hear the echoes of deceased words… but what does she know about… ‘life’…

What does she know about children? Nothing. What does she know about marriage? Nothing. What does she know about family?

…

Nothing.

What the hell does she even know about pack!? Nothing! According to the lore book Stiles gave Jordan, she has a lot of fucking learning to do!

Lydia is brought out of her spiral of distress by a gentle hand being placed on her lap. “Lydia, are you alright?” Stiles asks with a concerned tone, his phone call with Peter apparently over.

“Tell me about the Flores Pack,” she says instead of answering.

Stiles now has a soft smile on his face. “Christiano and Alex are like the supernatural equivalent of godparents to the Hale Pack,” he says kindly. “A long time ago, the Flores Pack was ambushed by hunters and the two of them inherited what was left of it. Back then, Talia and Peter answered the couple’s call for help and the two of them began rebuilding their legacy as the newest Alpha and Emissary-Mate. Some time later, Christiano and Alex would become the proud parents of four incredible children, as well as the heart and soul of the Flores Pack.”

‘Heart and soul of the Flores Pack…’ Lydia thinks to herself. So they too, know more about life than she does.

“Someday,” Stiles continues, looking out of the great window of the loft while perched on the couch, “I want the territory of Beacon Hills to feel the same amount of love, devotion, and guidance that I felt while under the care of the Flores Pack.”

Lydia stares in adornment as Stiles looks out into the open space. Not only is he remembering the fond times of Colorado, but he is also gazing into the future, seeing hope. A single tear escapes Lydia’s eye as she embraces Stiles’ faith. After all this time, Stiles actually believes this place is worth saving.

Stiles then turns back to look at Lydia. He sees the stray tear rolling down her cheek, but instead of pitying her, his soft smile grows into something motherly and tender. He raises his hand to wipe away Lydia’s tear as he speaks once more, “that’s up to us now.” Lydia blinks in confusion. “This is Hale Territory,” Stiles answers the unspoken question in the air, “and together, we are going to kick some chimera ass Lydia.”

Oh yeah… Lydia is a member of the Hale pack now… she has an Alpha that would sacrifice himself for the love, devotion, and guidance Stiles believes in… and she has an emissary that will cultivate her pack into the legacy they have claimed.

She has all of this, because for the last several years, Stiles has been learning about the one thing Lydia has yet to read in a book… ‘life.’

Lydia looks at Stiles’ left hand and, in that moment, she sees something much more beautiful than a moonstone band when her eyes catch the ring.

——

Unlike Stiles’ earlier prediction, Lydia does not subject him to chick flicks and online shopping. Instead, the two of them spend their time in the loft discussing everything and nothing all at the same time. They talk about their relationships. They talk about the things they’ve learned on their own. They talk about university. Apparently, Stiles managed to get an associate degree online with Peter’s help. He wants to continue his education further in occult studies.

During this time, it does not escape Lydia’s notice how purely he speaks about Cora and Peter. He has truly come to love them both. They have built a family together. They haven’t discussed the subject of Noah or Melissa. They will cross that bridge soon enough.

In the midst of their conversations, Stiles pauses for a moment, turning his head slightly to the front door of the loft. He must feel a presence. “That was faster than expected,” he says worriedly. Just then, the sliding door opens to show Julian, Cora, and Isaac returning from their trip to the vault. “Is everything alright? You guys didn’t run into any trouble, did you?”

As the three enter, Julian is the one to speak up. “No trouble, but the only information I could find about the land was knowledge that we already know. I have a few suspicions that I would like to confirm, but I need to ask my dad for further assistance.” The young shaman then rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps Noshiko would be able to answer a few questions as well. She lived here for several years if I’m not mistaken.”

Stiles then walks up to the three and stops right in front of Julian. He squats down so that he is roughly eye level with the young man. “Julian,” he says softly, “as the emissary of the Hale Pack, I would like to formally thank you for your efforts to our lands.” Stiles reaches out to hold Julian’s hand sincerely. “But I want you to know that the Hale pack would never ask you to exert yourself beyond comfort. I can see the gears turning in your head and I know how much you want to prove yourself. Simply having you here is a blessing.”

Cora smiles affectionately as she watches her emissary speak with their guest. Lydia and Isaac are stunned in place. Who is this man? Is this the same Stiles they knew all those years ago? Is this the same Stiles that thought ‘love’ meant piecing things back together with duct tape?

Julian’s posture relaxes as he watches Stiles intently.

Stiles continues, “Your father is a capable man who has had years… DECADES even, to become the force of nature that he is. When I look at you, I see his legacy as an emissary coming to life before my very eyes.” Julian’s eyes start to water as Stiles speaks. Their audience watches in awe. “You, young man, will move mountains. You will walk the spirits of your territory into their peace and you will show others where their hearts lie. I pray, that one day, I become half the emissary I know you are going to become.”

Nobody is surprised to see tears begin to stream down Stiles’ face as he continues to rub small circles into Julian’s wrist where he is still pressing a loving hold to the child. “In due time, you will provide the world with a ribbon in the sky that can only be painted by the love of a shaman like yourself, but until that time comes… let _us_ protect _your_ spirit.”

Julian is overcome by Stiles’ proclamation; he rushes into Stiles’ embrace for something that he didn’t realize he was waiting for.

Lydia and Isaac both wipe away a few tears that nobody will mention.

When Stiles stands up fully, he keeps Julian close to his side. “Cora, Isaac, if you don’t mind, I would like the two of you to take Julian to Danny’s house to rendezvous with Juliana. Peter is on his way there as well. Once everything is settled, report to Derek in the city. I’m sure he would be grateful for the back-up.”

Both betas nod in agreement. “I’ll pack some overnight bags just in case we aren’t back for a while,” Cora says.

“Good idea,” Stiles replies, “Julian, why don’t you call Juliana and see if she might need anything as well.”

When Julian looks up to Stiles again, he smiles innocently before walking off to call his sister.

Lydia watches as Stiles Hale breathes a deep breath of contentment.

——

Once the three others are gone, Lydia decides now is as good of a time as any. “You really care about those kids, don’t you?”

Stiles, who’s brewing a recipe of tea that Alex taught him, pauses for a moment to smile aimlessly. “All four of those kids are something out of a myth. Their lives are like a living, breathing comic book. Each one of them is going to become something extraordinary.” Stiles then pours Lydia a cup of tea and calmly hands it to her. “If they want to of course. Christiano and Alex would never force them into a life that they didn’t want, but they are such a close-knit, loving pack, that I can’t see any of them walking away from the other.”

Lydia stares into the steam of her tea for a moment, contemplating.

“From what Derek tells me, Talia was just as incredible,” Stiles says easily. “When he talks about her, it’s as if she’s still alive.”

Lydia looks up at that, curious about what Stiles could possibly mean.

He must she it on her face, the wonder, because he continues. “He doesn’t talk about his family often, but he mentions Talia from time to time: how she would have organized their pack, how she would have spoken to them when they needed comfort, how she was this wonder woman who nobody deserved to be blessed by. It may sound strange, but when I use my spark to reach deep down into his Alpha Spark, I can feel her there… and all the Hale Alphas that came before her.”

Lydia wonders if Stiles’ spark would allow him to tap into her own life force so intently. What would he find?

“Derek and I can only pray for a day to come when Cora decides to have children,” Stiles says joyously. “I don’t think Peter is willing to have any more children and Malia is a ‘coyote; it’s uncertain how likely it would be for her offspring to be ‘wolves.

“You and Derek don’t want kids?” Lydia asks without hesitation.

Suddenly, Stiles’ demeanor changes into something slightly downhearted. “I would love nothing more than to give Derek a child, and to give my dad a grandchild.” He takes a long sip of his tea to relax, “and as often as we like to try…” Stiles chuckles a bit to lighten the mood, “conceiving a child isn’t something I can offer my husband.”

“Have you asked Cora to carry your kid?” That’s the next logical option. Lydia doesn’t think it’s an inappropriate question to ask.

“Eh,” Stiles shrugs, “although it is an option, asking my sister-in-law to carry my child, when I’m married to her brother, who would be the uncle/father-in-law, may be ideal for us, but it’s not ideal for her. It wouldn’t be fair. What if one day she does decide to have children of her own? What’s going to happen when her children are separated by different fathers and the hierarchy states that my child is more important than Cora’s other children?”

“Hmm,” Lydia contemplates softly. She thinks long and hard about what she says next. She thinks about her future. She thinks about the things she still needs to learn… ‘life.’ She thinks about her purpose and what she’s capable of. By the time she speaks, she’s all but finished her tea, “Would you let me carry your children?”

Stiles looks at her stunned. That isn’t something he ever expected. “Lydia…”

“We would need to do it officially,” she interrupts. “I would probably be okay to carry a child for each of you. We could do fertility treatments and proper insemination. My mother isn’t a banshee and if I’m not mistaken, the banshee gene skips a generation. However, we could possibly consult with Alex just to make sure I can give birth to either a werewolf or a spark.”

“Lydia…”

“Regardless,” the banshee continues, “if Jordan and I ever decide to have children, the types of children I could conceive is information that I would need anyway.”

“Lydia…” tears begin to gather behind Stiles’ eyes.

“We would have to wait until I graduate though,” Lydia doesn’t stop. “I’m not going to walk across the stage of an Ivy League University with a baby bump.” She waves her hands in protest.

“Lydia!” Stiles practically shouts, his eyes flaring their supernatural wonder. Lydia stops in her tracks. “You don’t have to do that. I would never ask you to carry our children.”

“You didn’t ask; I offered.” When Stiles’ eyes return to their honey-amber, he’s crying.

Lydia knows exactly what she’s saying. She and Stiles were never meant to be in love, but their lives are intertwined for a reason. When he left Beacon Hills, the Pack didn’t just lose their anchor, Lydia lost her wind.

Stiles was the only person to see the brilliance behind Lydia’s eyes before she became a banshee. He believed in her, and he pushed her into believing in herself when she couldn’t understand reality. After today, after hearing Stiles speak about his duty to the territory, after seeing Stiles reassure and comfort Julian, Lydia knows that Stiles deserves to be a parent. She knows that he and Derek deserve their marriage. She knows that the two of them deserve a family.

Before Stiles can answer, his phone alerts him of a text message. He reads it solemnly before looking up to Lydia. “My dad woke up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Clarification: I thought really hard about Stiles’ spark. My idea is that he needs a ‘vessel’ in order to use his ‘magic.’ Theoretically speaking, he can give a life force to an inanimate object. However, it is ‘his’ life force that he is sharing. Both the wolves and the Ents are an extension of his own soul because he added a ‘life force’ to them (added a life force to the clay/trees). Creating a human body isn’t something that I pictured Stiles’ spark being capable of. It’s more so the ability to create a ‘life force,’ and not necessarily a ‘life.’


End file.
